


30 Day Homestuck Challenge

by Nitramoron



Category: Homestuck
Genre: 4chords, Alternate Universe - Human, Asphyxiation, Death, F/M, GOD I CANT MAKE ANYTHING HAPPY, Lets play how many ships can nitra sail in 30 days, M/M, Multi, Nitra breaks 900 hearts and counting, References to Suicide, Sadstuck, Suicide, challenge, dying, gays gays gays, lakehouse fun times, moar gays, more dying, multiple quadrants, nitra can't be serious, nitra evades the prompt with gay makeouts, oh god she's hot, oops more incest, ps john loves lilo and stitch, sick boyfriend time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:25:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 21,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitramoron/pseuds/Nitramoron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 30 Day Homestuck Challenge from Tumblr. I'll do a short drabble every day filling a prompt. It'll be fun! So stick around with Nitra for a month, there'll be gay ships and fluff! Also Sads because I love Sadstuck so much</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One (Stridercest)

**Author's Note:**

> Day One: Favorite Kid (Dave and Dirk)  
> I uh  
> I couldn't choose  
> So I shipped it  
> Gay incest is a pretty good start to this thing, eh?  
> So yeah

You sit in the corner of your room, back rested against your sicknasty set of turntables. A blank expression is settled on your fine features, your bright orange eyes settled on the poster of Owen Wilson across from you in an ironically lame stare-off you're doomed to lose. Your arm is wrapped casually around Lil Cal, and you, Dirk Strider, are bored as fuck. Being the only man alive means you don't exactly have a huge fucking list of activities to choose from outside of your computer, but right now not even the internet can cure your boredom, which is growing about as fast as the population of seagulls living atop your apartment building, which is extremely fucking fast. None of your friends are logged into Pesterchum for some reason, and none of your blogs are updating.  
So here you are. Withering away, locked in an eternal stare-off with a 2-D image of a bad actor with a fucked-up nose.  
You're almost as pitiful as English, and that's pretty bad. That dude makes out with his creepy blue chicks, a fact that a badly timed video-call pushed upon you. You still shudder at the memory.

You're unironically lost in an internal rant about Jake's unhealthy obsession with his cerulean ladies when your computer system makes a ding, alerting you to a message on Pesterchum.  
You prop Lil Cal up and give him a quick knuckle-bump (you always gotta make the little man feel loved. It's not right if you don't.) before straightening up and making your way over to your computer. You settle in your tall black computer chair, adjusting your shades on your face before pulling up your Pesterchum application.  
The contact request is from a user you've never heard of; turntechGodhead is written across your screen in tacky candy-red text. The message attached to the request is simple;  
TG: bro it's me  
You look at the text curiously before thinking ah, to hell with it and accepting. You're more bored than the sad bitches who have to write down the Terms and Conditions.  
Seconds after accepting, your computer dings again with a video call.  
You shake your head and plug in your DJ headphones, letting out a sigh as you accept the call. This boredom is causing you to do things you never would do if you had better things to capture your attention.  
When the connection is established, you're faced with a shockingly familiar face--white skin, a shock of thick white-blonde hair, and bright red eyes with bags underneath them. A pair of Aviators are resting firmly in the sculpted hair, leaving the eyes wide and staring at the screen in disbelief, even more so as your camera connects and your image is displayed. You're appalled.  
"B-Bro?" you both rasp in unison.  
"I didn't think it'd be true.. I thought Rose was just shitting me, the little fuck.. oh my god.." he mutters, getting closer to the screen as if he was nearing you yourself.  
"Who are you, and why do you look like him?" You ask firmly, putting your poker face back up and crossing your arms. This can't be real. It's too much to be real.  
"I-I'm Dave. Dave Strider."  
"Dirk Strider.."  
"Dirk... hell, you even have his name."  
"What the hell are you talking about?" you stare at his image through your shades.  
"My brother. He... you.. Dirk, you're my brother." he says quietly, eyes drooping tiredly.  
"So you're.. him?" you ask.  
"I am, but... It's complicated. I'm him but I'm not. Dirk, your brother, as you know him, is dead. I'm a different version of him."  
You just look at him. You can't believe it, but.. he's too similar for this to be a coincidence. You decide to change the subject for the time being.  
"How did you find me?"  
"My friend Rose.. she's your blonde alcoholic friend's mom, only like me, how she's the same person but not, you know? Well she's a fuckin' Seer, she knows all kinds a' shit, yeah? Well she told me Bro--you--were alive. I just... Dirk, this is unbelievable."  
Your eyes drag over his skin, lingering over the strong muscles of his neck, somewhere he loves to be kissed and nipped a little, up over his jaw and to his mouth, just like your lips have. But.. he's not Bro.  
"Dave.. Were you two, uh, involved?" you ask awkwardly. You need to know if what you experienced carried over into this other dimension or whatever the fuck it is. You need to know.  
"Yes. I loved him.. you. Dirk, I love you." he says, a little desperately.  
"I'm not him." "I know you're not him. Just.. just.. Fuck." he trails off, pushing a hand through his white hair in frustration, knocking his shades off his head. He winces and picks them up carefully, nodding in approval when he sees they're not broken. He notices you watching.  
"Fuckin' relief." he says, "Best bro got me these."  
"Just what, Dave?" you ignore it.  
It takes him a moment to respond.  
"Just let me fucking pretend, okay? We can get chummier than the fucking hipster's abolution trap later, but.." you have no fucking clue what an abolution trap is, but you nod for him to continue. "Just let me pretend you're him," he whispers, eyes looking a bit too wet.  
It can't hurt. He's obviously hurting, and to be honest, you are too.  
You give him a brief nod and slowly take your glasses off. If he's anything like the brother you loved more than anything, he loves your eyes.  
"Dirk?" he says quietly.  
"Yes?" you murmur.  
"Tell me about him."  
And you do.  
You tell this strange boy who reminds you so much of your dead lover and brother everything about him, from the stupid things he did to annoy you like move your swords out of their rightful place (the fridge, storing food there is for chumps) to TURNING ON THE FUCKING BLENDER WHEN YOUR SMUPPETS ARE IN THERE to stealing your video games, you tell him about how he chewed his lip when he was upset and how much he loved crows, how his best friend was some cake tycoon from Washington. You told him stories, how he would wake you in the middle of the night to tell you about the new flavor of Doritos he's promoting, how he'd get into his scriptwriting moods and wouldn't leave his computer until he passed out from dehydration.  
By the time you told him how he died you're both crying, and he tells you about his brother.  
You know he's not Bro.  
He knows the same for you.  
But for a while, it won't hurt to pretend.


	2. Day Two (Dave/Sollux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two: Favorite Troll  
> That'd have to be Sollux Captor. What a c u t i e.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is almost porn. ALMOST.  
> Also this is humanstuck, where Sollux lives with Karkat and Gamzee (who are in hot yaois together) and Dave has brown hair.  
> I'M SORRY IF THE GRAMMAR IS MESSED UP IN PLACES, I WROTE THIS IN TWO DIFFERENT TENSES THEN SWITCHED THE STYLE SEVERAL TIMES BEFORE IT WAS OKAY ENOUGH TO POST.  
> Gomen <3

"Look at that booty, show me the booty! Give me the booty, I want the the booty. Back up the booty, I need the booty. I like the booty, oh what a booty!"  
Sollux groans groggily at his phone sounds, the ironic ringtone Dave set for himself making him shake his head as he rubs sleepies from his eyes and reaches for his phone.  
"Thith better be good, Thdrider." he lisps with as much venom as he can muster in his half awake state. He stretches the hand not holding his phone across his body to the small table beside his bed, feeling around the CDs and energy drink cans to find his thick rimmed glasses, which he places firmly of his head with another yawn.  
"Holy shit, Captor, are you just waking up?" Dave's slight southern twang comes from the phone.  
"Tho what? I wath up late.. working on thome things." you reply.  
"Yeah, working on that stupid-ass Minecraft shit you're obsessed with. C'mon, man, it's not even ironic." he whines incredulously.  
"Thut up, DV. Minecraft ith thweet. Anyway, what the hell do you want?"  
The line's quiet for a moment, and he stands, stretching his long arms over his head with a yawn."Let's fuck, asshole. I'll be over in twenty minutes." the line goes silent as the call is ended.  
Sollux's eyes go wide behind his thick-rimmed glasses and he drops his phone, mid-stretch.  
Oh.  
Sollux grabs his battered cell phone off the ground with a grin on his face, tossing it on the unmade bed as he heads into the bathroom, bare feet slapping on the wooden floor.  
He brushes his teeth, running his tongue over the backs of his slightly elongated, sharp double-canines.  
When he's done, he adjusts the waist of his boxers, still messed up from sleep. He sprays himself with Karkat's Axe, knowing that Dave likes how it smells.  
He makes his way over to the room Karkat and Gamzee share, peeking his head in.  
"Hey, guyth, thtay out of my room. I'm getting laid."  
Gamzee looks up from where he's cuddling with a sleeping Karkat, a romcom playing forgotten on the other side of the room.  
"Congrats, my brother. I'll up and bake you something real nice as a motherfuckin' congratulations present, you hear?" the stoner croons, grinning from the bed.  
"Gamzee..."  
"Nope! Don't you even think about making me not wanna do something nice for my bro. It'll be fuckin' fantastic! Now go, go get your laid on!" Gamzee smiles wider.  
Sollux shakes his head and backs his head out of the room, latching the door. He's just walked passed the door leading to the living room when the door opens.  
"HONEY, I'M HOME!" Dave yells obnoxiously as he passes through the threshhold, tossing his keys on the couch and making his way to Sollux.  
Sollux studies his boyfriend; he takes in the medium-height, lithe body; the thick russet-colored hair messed up from where his sunglasses are pushed up into them; the skin-tight black jeans that must of cost him a fortune; his face, all sharp features and dark eyes and sarcastic grin.  
"Hey babe," he murmurs into the brunette's ear as red-clad arms are wrapped around him. "I missed you."  
"Oh, swoooon." he says sarcastically, but Sollux can feel him smile against his chest.  
He's about to ask him something else, but all thoughts of that are erased once Dave gets on his tiptoes and presses his soft lips to the taller boy's.  
Sollux kisses back immediately, slouching a bit so that Dave didn't have to stand on his toes. His hands fist themselves in Dave's broken record shirt, and his tongue reaches out to flick against Dave's lips.  
One of Dave's hands goes down Sollux's bare back, stopping at the small just above his bee-printed boxers, pushing the thinner boy closer to him.  
Dave's tongue slides into Sollux's mouth, his long tongue dragging across Sollux's sharp, abnormal teeth.  
It's not long before there's a tent in Sollux's boxers, pressing against Dave's stomach.  
"Someone's excited to see me," Dave laughs, pulling away from Sollux and grabbing his hand, quiet as they make their way to Sollux's bedroom.  
Dave lets his boyfriend go when they pass through the door, walking by himself over to the unmade bed and standing beside it, facing Sollux. His dark brown eyes are lidded and heavy with lust as his hands slide down his torso slowly, curling around the hem and pulling it up over his stomache excruciatingly slowly, baring the flesh, toned from years of sword-fighting and strifing with his Bro.  
Sollux licks his lips, fiddling with his waistband as Dave continues, his long fingers expertly undoing his belt and the button to his jeans.  
It takes what feels like forever for him to shimmy out of those tight-ass jeans.  
Sollux can't take it anymore and walks forward when they're pooled at his feet, pushing him onto the red and blue-themed bed and then pulling his jeans off his feet in one rushed movement.  
Sollux is pulled down on top of him, knees resting on the bedspread on either side of Dave's boxer-clad waist. Sollux kisses him hungrily.  
The two men's hands are all over each other, skin heating up. Sollux's fingers slide under his boyfriend's waistband and they both pause, panting into each other's mouths, foreheads pressed together  
Dave's the first to move, slowly pulling the other's boxers down to his knees and throwing him off of him. He doesn't fight it, lying on his back. He leans back against the wall and studies the black-haired, pale boy before moving over to kiss his jaw, taking his thin wrists in his hands and pinning them on the bee pillow above Sollux's head.  
He nips and sucks against his skin, his long eyelashes brushing against his cheeks every once and a while as he slowly moves down, trailing kisses against his neck and down your torso. Sollux begins to ache, and moans for progress to stop going so excruciatingly slow.  
"Now, now, now.. You be a good boy, or I might have to stop completely.." Dae says in a low voice after Sollux bucks up into him particularly hard, looking up at him from where he was kissing beside his navel with burning eyes.  
"No, DV pleathe.." Sollux begs, panting a little.  
"Fine, you impatient little shit.." he growls, head getting closer and closer to where Sollux desperately wants it to be.  
Closer..  
Closer..  
Both of the boys' heads snap up as the yellow door bursts open and Gamzee walks in, Karkat sitting on his back piggy-back style. There's a steaming pie in Gamzee's hands, a smiley face cut into the top. Green icing (Sollux didn't know you were supposed to ice pies..) spells out "cOnGrAtS oN tHe MoThErFuCkInG sEx! :o)" around the face.  
Gamzee just kind of stands there awkwardly, and Karkat's jaw just about hits the floor.  
"Motherfuckin' oh." Gamzee says after a second. "I'm just gonna, uh, leave this here..." he mutters, setting the pie on the floor under your desk and backing out slowly.  
Neither Sollux nor Dave moves for a moment, then Dave falls back onto the bed beside Sollux, mood killed.  
"God damnit!" Sollux groans, putting his face in his hands. "Cockblocked by a pie-baking clown. Jesus fucking chrithht."  
He pulls his boxers back onto his jutting hips, frowning.  
"It's alright, babe. There's always tomorrow." Dave says, sounding disturbingly amused and pressing a kiss to his lover's cheek. "There's always tomorrow."


	3. Day Three (Gamzee/Karkat, Gamzee/Tavros)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Three: Patron Troll  
> that'd be my dear Karkat Vantas!  
> This is sad. I'm sorry. Also it's really short and half assed. For that I'm sorry too.  
> Set in the 4CHORDS universe, but you don't really have to have read 4CHORDS to get this!

It kills him.  
Every time he sees them touch, even the slightest bit. Every time he sees Gamzee's lidded brown eyes travel up and down Tavros's body like he's something fucking /special/. Every time Gamzee lets one of his stupid fucking pet names slip, and Tavros shakes with embarassment and excitement and /love/ like a damned blushing virgin, Karkat Vantas dies a bit.  
He's resorted to running from his best friend. Every time he sees Gamzee's name on the caller ID, sees his big black Harley turn down his street, sees him online, Karkat hides like a fucking coward. From his own BEST FRIEND.  
He can't help it.  
It's not like Gamzee knows how he feels. It's not his fault Karkat's too afraid to finally man the fuck up and tell him about his feelings.  
Karkat can't stop himself for loving Gamzee, his best friend since kindergarten. He can't help that tug he feels in his chest every time Gamzee meets his eyes, or laughs because of him, or smiles that toothy, genuine, lucid smile he seems to get only when he's around Karkat.  
Karkat hasn't seen that smile in far, far too long. He's been hiding for far too long.  
He throws himself off the couch, crossing his arms and pacing angrily.  
"Fucking jackass, being so goddamned attractive.." he starts off a long rant, pacing and worrying at his lower lip until it bleeds.  
He fights with himself internally before stopping in front of his bedroom desk, hand reaching out to grab his battered cell phone of its own accord.  
He doesn't tell it to type out speed dial two, and he certainly doesn't tell it to hit send.  
After the second ring, it's picked up, and a breathless, uncharacteristically worried voice answers.  
"Karkat? Bro, is that you?"  
"Gamzee."  
"Yeah? What is it? You up and haven't talked to me in weeks.. I was worried. Tavros was too. God, brother."  
"This needs to stop." Karkat grumbles, his burgundy eyes watering. He wipes them away shakily.  
"What?" Gamzee sounds confused.  
"Karbabe?" he says again after a moment of Karkat's silence.  
"This. You."  
"What?" Gamzee says again, sounding thoroughly confused.  
"You don't fucking know, do you?" Karkat chuckles humorlessly.  
"Karkat? Karkat, you're scaring me, brother."  
"I'm coming over. Gamzee.. I need to tell you something."  
"Alright, Karbro, I'll tidy the place up all nice for you." he sounds worried still, and Karkat hangs up and throws his phone on his bed.  
"God, I'm such a fucking idiot." the short, pale boy snarls to himself, snatching his car keys off of the cluttered kitchen counter and walks briskly out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him and racing down the stairs, suddenly glowing with rage at himself for completely abandoning Gamzee because of a stupid crush.  
Karkat jumps in his stupid, beat-up little car, sitting in it for a few moments with his head in his hands before pulling out. He's distracted as he drives, running through several red lights without a glance. He has too much on his mind for safe driving.  
So, as he rants in his brain and makes a worrying fool out of himself, he doesn't see the light glowing red above him.  
As he plans out how to tell Gamzee how he loves him, he doesn't see the truck barreling towards him.  
He doesn't even look as it hits him, metal screeching and breaks squealing as the huge truck destroys the car.  
He's just busy thinking about how it kills him to have who he loves love someone else.  
It kills him.


	4. Day Four (Tavros/Vriska)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Four: Favorite Page  
> That'd have to beeeeeeee http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=005019  
> It's just so pretty. The events that happen before and after are great, too. I think this might be my favorite part in Homestuck. It broke my heart!

"This is it, runt," an accented voice whispers into your ear as you stare at her, her lifeless body sprawled out on the blue-blood soaked pink rock.  
"Here's yer chance,"  
You study Vriska, pressing a hand against her blank face, rubbing circles onto her high gray cheekbone with your thumb. Her big eyes are closed, black eyelashes lying on her cheeks. You brush a finger against them and they flutter.  
Your eyes widen a little, but you pass that off as nerves twitching.  
She's dead.  
Look at all that blood, you tell yourself. There's no way Vriska's alive.  
"Kiss her." the voice murmurs lightly.  
You have to.  
Come on, Tavros. This is your chance. You have to kiss her.  
You pucker your lips hesitantly, closing your eyes after one last glance at Vriska. You move towards her slowly.  
"KISS THAT GIRL YOU WIMP." the voice says again, obviously getting impatient. You need the grumbling to stop, so you take a deep breath, feeling the magic bubble up inside of you as you lean closer... closer..  
And then a strong, blood-covered hand latches around your throat, stopping you in your place. You let out a choked gasp and struggle as the "dead" girl strangles you, your eyes bugging out of your head.  
A moment later the hand drops, and you lunge backwards, clutching your bloody neck.  
"You make me sad, runt." the voice snarls. "Just shakin' my head here!" it says, since you can't see the owner of the voice.  
You gasp for air, feeling color return to your skin.  
"I can't take it anymore! I got to stop playin' games fer girls. Yer on yer own, runt!" the voice sounds again, and then you feel more.. alone. You take a deep breath and slowly come closer.  
"V-Vriska?" you ask softly. She doesn't respond.  
After a moment you feel a tug at your arm. You look down, shocked, as your flesh writes words on the stone in Vriska's blue blood without you telling it to.  
"Oh, now you want to kiss me???????? Little l8, don't you think" it says, and a moment later, as you stare at yourself dumbfoundedly, more words appear. "Save your breath, Page. I 8'nt dead just yet. Besides, there's plenty of time for that l8r ::::)" you smear the words haphazardly along the pink rock, shaking.  
You sit still for a moment before your arm picks up again.  
"Pick me up. Need to get somewhere fast. Are you ready to flyyyyyyyy, Pupa?"  
You gently pick Vriska Serket up, holding her close to your chest. You're covered in blue blood, and your limbs don't seem to want to cooperate as you set drape her over your red hovercraft and climb on yourself.  
"Come on, Tavros. You can do this!" you mutter things like this to yourself over and over as you lift off and fly into the sky, over a surreally colored body of water and towards a tall structure upon Vriska's (well your own, really) instruction.  
You fly into an orange honey-comb rock formation, leaving a trail of smoke behind you.  
You're shaking when you land and recieve instruction to place Vriska on an orange stone slab with a curving yellow sun printed on it.  
Suddenly, it hits you; you have to kill her.  
When the realization dawns on you, you begin shaking more furiously.  
This is Vriska's quest bed. She needs to die here to ascend to her god tier.. this is a thing that needs to happen.  
You will away tears as you numbly pull your black and white lance.  
You find yourself standing by her feet, your lance by your side. You're shaking all over, and your trusty weapon almost falls from your fingers multiple times. You're dripping with blue blood, covered in it. You feel sticky and gory and afraid. Rufio's not here to give you confidence. You can't do this.  
"I won't make you do it. This is up to you. Here's your chance!" the words are splattered onto the orange rock.  
You look up at her, eyes wide. She seems to be... glowing, with a shimmering light. You rub at your eyes, smearing blue on your skin, but the light isn't a figment of your imagination. It's beautiful.  
You're so awed you almost don't realize you're spelling out another message, on the side of the rock slab.  
"8ut do it fast, ok? Please don't make me 8leed to death slowly"  
Your breathing quickens, and you panic. You hadn't thought that she'd be in pain..  
Sure, dying couldn't be much fun, but you didn't think she's be hurting. As stupid as it seemed, you didn't want her to be in pain.  
You scrawl something else on the rock, something that you don't really understand.  
"NO!!!!!!!! This is his decision. I know he can do it."  
Vriska thinks you can do this. She has faith in you. You don't want to let her down, but.. You don't think you're strong enough. You can't do this to her, you can't, you can't...  
"Tavros, hurry up!"  
You sit on the slab, putting an arm around her and leaning down. Your trusty lance is still gripped loosely in your other arm. There's so much blood... gog, it's everywhere. She's lying limply in a pool of it, and it's dripping slowly all over the rock, into the crevaces and over the edges and onto the dusty ground.  
"KILL ME" you paint gently across her forehead.  
Your hand makes its way to your forehead now, and you fight it, terrified. You feel yourself spell out "K8LL M8"  
Your arms go frantically, scrawling words in a terrible blue medium all across the rock, interrupted here and there with long blue scratches, handprints, where you shook too much to form legible words.  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"  
"DO IT YOU COWARD"  
And then, repeated over and over, two simple words.  
"K8LL M8."  
Suddenly the writing isn't just blue.  
The colors are a mixed pallet of blue and your own brown, coating your hands in a horribly beautiful mix of blood.  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"  
You hear a voice again.  
"FINISH HER! Whatcha waiting for?" it screams, like a thousand pained voices all trying to communicate a thought in a chorus of bloodcurling cries.  
You scream yourself and put your bloodied hands to your head.  
"MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE! STOP!" you holler. It hurts.  
"What are you? SOME KIND OF WIMP?"  
Bronze tears slowly slide down your cheeks, diluting the blue.  
You clutch your face as the screams continue, and you know.  
You can't do it.  
You can't kill her.  
You love her too much, as idiotic as it sounds. You can't.  
You rush to your hovercraft, taking off and getting out of there, sobbing so hard you can't see. You put the vehicle on autopilot and clutch your blood- and tear-stained face in your hands.  
You feel the air ripple as the structure glows light out of every orfice.  
You're just in the range of hearing to be blasted with the thousands of terrible screams as it blows to bits.


	5. Day Five (Tavros/Sollux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Five: Favorite Flash  
> That'd have to be [S] Caliborn: Enter.  
> It broke my heart, and I love sad things, so... yeah.  
> I think the amount of minifics I've written about this flash is in the hundreds. I'm not even kidding I love it so much irjfnjduh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow almost everything in this is turning out to be sadstuck  
> Gomen
> 
> also my brain is a little fried by those new characters so uh  
> gomen again

Unless they're fairly high up on the hemospectrum, trolls lose their sight in bubbles. No one knows why that is, or if they do, no one cares enough to explain it to everyone, so the lowbloods just fly around in the dark (literally.)  
You, as a bronze-blood, were one of the first to lose your sight.  
It happened suddenly. You just woke one day, suspended in the air, and everything was dark. Blank. There were swirls of color and light, like having your eyes closed for an extended period of time, but.. nothing that could be classified as "seeing." One thing, you noticed as you floated by a tall troll you admittedly never talked to much, is that bright lights could paint pictures in my brain.  
He, not being far from you on the hemospectrum, went blind not long after. He retained some memory and knew how to cope, using his red and blue ropes of energy as a sort of echolocation.  
You spoke to him one day, on a burst of confidence that appeared out of nowhere. You told him you were Tavros, and he told you he knew.  
You found out his name was Sollux Captor, and he was willing to be your eyes.  
That first night, you floated together for hours, coming across a odd rock formation on your bubble and settling down in the space beside it. He painted pictures for you all night.  
He showed you his lusus, talked about your ancestors, made little comics about the antics your friends got into.  
You did this every night, and there was seldom a moment where the two of you weren't together.  
You two slowly got closer, and your pale feelings slowly got red. Then, one night, in your special place (the rock formation where you spoke that first night) he spelled out "II PIITY YOU" with his powers. You said it back, and you embraced.  
He was your matesprit, and you were never happier. You thought, on this bubble, you could be happy forever.  
All that changed the day Dave needed to see Sollux.  
You were curled tightly around each other, sleeping and hovering in midair. You were dreaming about nothing in particular when a boot nudges Sollux against you.  
"Hey, prick. Wake up," Dave says impassively, kicking Sollux.  
"What the hell do you want, Thdrider?"  
"Karkat found something. Some sort of techy thing? Said you should check it out."  
Sollux gives you a peck on the cheek before untangling himself from you, mumbling explicitives.  
"I'll be back, babe."  
He floats away, asking Dave something and leaving you in the dark.  
Hours later, you feel a warm glow, the telltale sign of Sollux nearing you.  
"S-Sollux! Where have you been?" you ask, a smile on your face.  
There's no reply.  
The warmth gets stronger, accompanied by bright flashing lights.  
"Sollux?"  
It's starting to burn now.  
"S--" thats when the screams start.  
The first one is high-pitched and drawn out--is that Aradia?  
Then there's a deep one, cut off halfway through... Equius?  
You hear a few other ones that you can place (John, another Tavros, and even two Daves) and then some that you cant.  
The light is even more potent now, and extremely painful. You let out a whimper, and then you hear it.  
The next scream is a lot closer than the others. It's loud, and unlike the others it's made up of coherent words.  
"MAKE IT TTHHHHHHTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPP."  
Your heart stops in your chest.  
"Sollux? Sollux!" you yell, turning around and wishing you could see anything other than these burning blasts of light.  
You can feel your skin slowly peeling away from your burning flesh, your bones disintegrating and turning to dust.  
You hear one final scream.  
You're gone too soon to realize it's your own.


	6. Day Six (Meenah/Karkat)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Six: Favorite Song  
> That'd be Openbound, or Meenah's Theme. I just can't stop listening to it, it's so great!  
> This is really short. Writers block hit me hard.  
> Gomen uvu  
> HOW MANY SUMMARIES HAVE I SAID GOMEN IN AND ITS ONLY BEEN SIX DAYS

You lie in a pile of brightly colored leaves, staring at the canopy of pink above you and twisting one of your long braids between your finger and your thumb.  
You sigh heavily, blinking your blank eyes slowly.  
"What are you thinking about?" a voice sounds abruptly from the wooden steps off to your right.  
You start, sitting upright and scowling at Karkat.  
"You scared me, chum bucket!" you say, crossing your long, black-clad legs on the greenish blue grass in front of you.  
"Shut up, globechaffer." he says softly, coming and sitting beside you.  
He rests his head on his hand, bracing it against his knee and looking glum.  
"What's wrong?"  
"It's just... too much to handle at once, you know? It's just... everything is happening at once, with all the new trolls turning out to be real, like you, and all being just so terrible and fucking TEREZI is feeling down, Meenah, a little while ago I came down here and found her SITTING IN THE CORNER SOBBING INTO HER FUCKING COSPLAY HOOD BECAUSE SHE'S NOT AS "GOOD" AS HER NOOKWHIFFING ANCESTOR WHO REALLY IS A BIT OF A BITCH, seriously there's nothing appealing to her except for she's kind of attractive and she's a good skateboarder I guess AND AMPORA WON'T STOP BOTHERING ME, GAPERLICKER, I NEVER THOUGHT ANYONE COULD BE WORSE THAN MY AMPORA and oh dear gog I just referred to him as 'my' Ampora.. please excuse me while I go play a fucking Strider and transportalize my head somewhere far away so.." you smack him and he stops rambling, muttering an "ouch" and rubbing his red cheek.  
"Thanks, I needed that."  
"Any time, chum bucket."  
The two of you are quiet for a second, and then you feel one of your braids being lifted, then the other. Karkat plays around with your hair, putting the two braids together with surprising gentleness.  
He scoots behind you for better access, and you two say nothing while he just sits and worries at your fine black hair.  
After a while, Vantas sighs and rests his head on your shoulder.  
You turn and slide closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and putting his head over your shoulder in a more comfortable fashion.  
He stills for a moment, stiffening before pressing himself a little bit closer against you.  
Your breath catches at the close proximity, and you feel your cheeks turning bright pink.  
"Not everything is bad about us joining together, Karkat," you breathe into his ear.  
"Yeah, I'm starting to think that way too."


	7. Day Seven (Tinkerbull/Bathtub Blackrom)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Seven: Favorite Lusus  
> Tinkerbull! What a cutie!  
> Wow seven days and I haven't given up! Awwwe yeah!  
> This is kind of boring and FLUFF FINALLY because I'm feeling sad need this  
> <3

Tinkerbull had followed close behind you when you wandered into the block, nickering and chomping lightly at your hair in curiosity as you, thinking ahead, had closed and locked the door behind you upon entering the block.  
As soon as you turn the water on in your abulution trap, he knows. When you turn the switch to activate the water, he let out a long whine and flitted to the door, snorting in dismay as he remembered you had closed it.  
"N-now, Tinkerbull. This has to be done! You got all messy out in the lawn ring earlier, buddy. Can't have you, uh, stinking up the hive with your... rank!" you say sternly, putting your hands on your hips. "You know this cant be helped, so, uh... give in? Just let me bath you, I mean. It won't be so bad! You can even use my, uh, product for your fur!" You try to sound a little cheery, but you just feel so bad at the look on his cute bull features that you sound sad as you walk a little closer and gather him up into your arms.  
He huffs and tries to fly away, but you shake your head as you dim the spray of water and set him down in the course of the gentle mist.  
He settles down into the warmth, leaning against your arm with his eyes closed.  
You hum softly as you let the water soak his white fur, a song Gamzee had taught you some time ago.  
Tinkerbull jerks as you move gently away from him, reaching up into your cabinet to get your hair product, to make Tinkerbull all nice and soft! You shoosh him and scratch that place under his chin that he likes before squirting a little of the green gel into your hand and lathering it onto his skin, taking care around his wings..  
After a moment you lean back to inspect your work.  
Tinkerbull's entire body is tripled in size by the gigantic amout of lather covering his adorable little features, and you giggle. He wags his tail back and forth excitedly.  
"Tink, you're doing so well! Look at---AUUUUGH TINKERBULL NOOOOO!" you shout, eyes widening as you realize that the tail wagging was him getting the idea to shake his body as forcefully as possible and spraying you with bubbles!  
You try not to laugh as you realize how funny you must look, sitting there bathing your fairy bull and covered in suds, but it's difficult! Boy, if Gamzee got a load of this!  
You chuckle a little bit as you push Tinkerbull back into the spray playfully, a grin on your face.  
After all the lather is washed off of both of you, you pull Tinkerbull out of the abolution trap and wrap him in a towel.  
You scrub him with the towel until he's dry, nuzzling his nose as you unwrap him from the towel and see that his colorless fur is frizzy and that he's basically a snorting little puff ball with a nose ring.  
"Oh, Tink, what am I g-going to do with you?" you ask, laughing as you pull him close and reach for his brush.  
You love bath days.


	8. Day Eight (Stridercest)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Eight: Favorite Guardian  
> Bro motherfuckin' Strider  
> Seriously what a boss.  
> Oops my asphyxiation kink is coming out a little

CLANG!   
Your swords clash together loudly and you grit your teeth as the force jolths through your whole body.  
Sweat pours down your face, getting into your eyes and mouth, dripping down your bare chest, but you're too zoned in on the strife to feel the burn in your eyes and in your strained muscles.  
You block a few of your brother's swings, narrowing your eyes at the apparent ease and fluidity with which he attacks you, how smoothly he blocks your blows, how straight his face is. He looks bored almost as his sword slides through your block and scratches a line of blood down your abdomen.  
You almost grunt in pain before landing a blow on the hilt of his sword, knocking it out of his hands. You advance quickly, kicking him in the knee so he falls to the ground.  
You follow him quickly, pinning him down with your body.  
You both stay still, remaining on the defensive and breathing hard.  
After a few moments you relax slightly, which proves to be a mistake as he immediately kicks you off.  
You fly backwards, and Bro flashsteps to get his sword back and pushes you up against the in from the roof before you can hit the concrete, his body pressed flush against yours.  
"Little man..." he breathes, sword pinning your neck against the hard metal.  
The pressure against your neck makes it hard to breathe.  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," his breath rustles your hair as he speaks in a low, sultry voice. "I thought I taught you better than to leave your guard down?"  
You let out what can definately not be classified for a whimper in any way shape or form but oh wait that totally was a whimper and oh god Bro's never going to let you live that tiny noise down  
He smirks and presses the flat side of his sword harder against your throat, and your head feels heavy.  
Blood rushes down, down, down.  
You see the grin on your brother's face widen as he feels you harden against his leg at the blockage of your windpipe.  
"You like that, you little shit?" he growls into your ear.  
He pulls away just long enough to push you onto the ground under him. You catch your breath, shades askew and red eyes wide.  
He pushes his hand over your mouth, giving you a dangerous, smouldering orange stare over the brim of his trianglar shades before squeezing your nose shut with the other callused hand.  
Bro leans down and attacks your neck, ignoring your sweaty slick skin.  
You moan against his skin as he bites at you furiously, starting off with little nips and sucks but then biting so hard in several places that blood drips down your flesh and onto the concrete. You clench your teeth, trying to conserve breath.  
You feel everything going dark and fuzzy along the edges after a few moments, and you're just about to black out when he removes his hands and looms over you, your blood smeared on the teeth you see through his crooked smile.  
You taste it on your tongue as he moves in and kisses you, hands on either side of your head.   
He rubs against you as he kisses you roughly, and you feel that he's just as excited as you are.  
His hand goes from the cement to your skin, rubbing up your side and smearing blood from the marks he left on your neck onto your cheek before the hand goes down and palms you through your jeans and /oh/ that feels good jesus /fuck/ what have you been missing out on  
You moan against his lips and he chuckles darkly as your breath speeds up against his skin.  
He rubs you harder and doesn't stop kissing you for a long while, not until you're on the brink and fucking god you're so close /so close/ and oh bro you're gonna come you're going to come fuck and---and then it's gone.   
Bro's standing when you open your eyes, dumbfounded.  
"Nice strife, lil' man." he says from behind you and ruffles your blond hair.  
He's gone when you turn, the only evidence he was even there a dark chuckle still resounding in your ears and the door downstairs swinging shut gently in the breeze.  
"GOD DAMMIT BRO!" you groan, dropping your head into your hands in frustration.  
God dammit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well two days out of eight ended with a cockblock/blue balls  
> #YOLO MOTHERFUCKERS


	9. Day Ten (PM<>WV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10: Favorite Exile  
> I actually don't like the exiles much, hence the shortness and lame of this chapter. I wrote about PM and WV, because they're cuties.  
> I'm gonna say it again---  
> g o m e n

You walk up on him scribbling furiously on a concrete slab, covered in chalk dust and with a focused expression on his shiny black face. Serenity buzzes happily around him, and blinks at you in greeting.  
"What are you drawing, WV?" you ask, putting your hands on your gray-clad hips and trying to make sense of the multi-colored scribbles.  
He just huffs in response, a puff of chalk dust flying into the air with his exhale.  
You smile gently and sit next to him, not caring about the dust getting all over the flag strips that adorn your carapace.  
You sit with him for a while longer, the only sounds the buzzing of Serenity's wings and the scritch-scratch of chalk on rough concrete.  
Finally, he huffs again happily and raises his stubby arms in victory.  
"You done, WV?" you ask again.  
His wide eyes meet yours and he nods excitedly, backing away a little so you can see the full picture.  
You look at the picture in amusement, dragging a reflective finger over the chalky colors absently.  
It's you, apparently, with WV, AR, and WQ, drawn sloppily and in many different colors.  
You're all holding hands and smiling, which is odd because two of you don't have the capability to do such a thing.  
But still, it's cute. WV always did have a thing with pictures.  
"Good job, little friend," you smile, and he makes a buzzing noise and snuggles into your carapace, knocking your hood half off your head a bit as he cuddles into you, purring almost at the praise.  
You chuckle and embrace him, looking at the drawing.  
He's so cute.


	10. Day Ten (Dave/Jade)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Ten: Favorite Alchemized Item  
> Why, the Dead Shuffle Dress of course!  
> I tried to make today's a little longer to make up for yesterday's 200 word failure C:  
> I really hope this counts, and I hope this is accurate because I wrote this all in class today and I'm too lazy to check. uvu

You watch the shiny black leather glint sharply in the muted light from Rose's bedroom as you twirl around in front of Rose's closet mirror, grinning wildly at how cool it looks.  
When you came to your friend Kanaya two weeks ago witht designs for the custom prom dress she said she'd make you last-minute, she was on board immediately.  
Rose was a little hesitant, saying that perhaps your design was a bit edgy for your senior prom with the twisting spikes of fabric and blood-red accents, but you'd just told her to stop being a Debbie Downer and bounced around excitedly as Kanaya pondered how exactly to go about creating your "Dead Shuffle" dress, she'd called it.  
Now you stand in Rose's messy purple bedroom, spinning and dancing and just having a wonderful time looking so badass as Rose and Kanaya rest in a cute little snuggle-pile in a pile of Squiddles on Rose's bed behind you.  
The dress's top is like a normal black suit, with red buttons, a black undershirt, and white tie.  
You even got Kanaya to stitch your own personal logo (a dog head, because you love doggies!) on the breast!  
Right above your waist, the fabric cuts off to black leather and ends in multiple long spikes, twisted around each other. Under it, you wear red leggings ending in red-laced black boots.  
Suddenly it hits you--with your long, wavy black hair, huge eyes, and sharp-looking dres, you look like a heroine straight out of one of your animes!  
You drop down into a defensive crouch, trying to make yourself look lean and deadly. Your protruding, charming (at least Dave thinks so! Well, you think he thinks so...) buck teeth ruin your image, and you collapse in a pile of hair and giggles at how silly you look.  
After a long while without your giggle fit showing any signs of slowing down, Kanaya chimes in, sounding concerned at the tears streaking down your heart-shaped face.  
"Jade, dear, are you alright?"  
"I just... I just looked so silly!" you choke out, followed by a new bout of giggles and snorts.  
"Jade, Dave will be here soon," Rose adds, and you freeze.  
Oh no! What if Dave and John come to pick the three of you up, and you're still lying here sobbing over your hilarious failure!  
"Oh, right, right," you mumble, and carefully maneuver yourself off of the carpet to go finish up your makeup.

Ten minutes later, the three of you are decked out in your best (and lookin' pretty smoking, if you may say so yourself!) and standing in Rose's entry room waiting for John and Dave to arrive.  
Rose's white-gloved hand is clasped in Kanaya's, resting on the Rose's light purple-clad knee.  
Suddenly there's a loud crash from the room adjacent to the one you're in, and you almost jump out of your sick dress!  
"Heeeey, guys! Er, girls, heh..." Rose's mom slurs into the room, almost spilling her drink on the expensive-looking camera in her other hand.  
"Oh god, Mooooom.." Rose whines (but in an elegant way, because Rose is elegant!), face-palming.  
"I needta get pictures of you! I forgot to Make Roxy before she left with Callie!" she pouts her painted lips dramatically and waves the camera.  
"That's fine, Ms. Lalonde." Kanaya smiles warmly.  
"See, Ro! Kanny's fine with it!" she bounces over to the three, waving for them to all get together. "Go on! Smiiiile, kiddies!"  
You get in the middle of your two best girl friends and pulling them together with your arms around your shoulders. The flash goes off with them squished against your broadly grinning self.  
A few moments and very many pictures later, the doorbell rings and John's squeaky yell sounds from outside.  
"Laaaaaaaaaaadies! We're here!"  
Rose opens the door and gives Dave and John a quick hug before motioning for you and Kanaya to follow her out the door before you're assaulted by one photo-crazed, drunk mom, and you do.  
"Hey, babe," Dave whistles as you exit the house, draping a black-clad arm across your shoulders as you cross the lawn to his crappy red car.  
"Hi, Dave!" you squeak, bouncing a little and grinning a bit bigger.  
You, being the owner's girlfriend, get shotgun when you all cram into the Strider family car.  
"Hey, Dirk!" you call to Dave's twin brother, who was in the trunk compartment behind the back seats showing his friend Jake something on his cell phone.  
"Sup." he calls shortly, flashing you a slight smile over the headrest.  
"Hey, Harley!" your cousin yells from beside him, waving exhuberantly.  
You all chat while Dave drives to Alternia High, stopping on the way to pick up John's boyfriend Karkat.  
When you get there, you uncram yourselves out of Dave's car and call your other friends inside to meet up, which you do. The whole rest of the crew are waiting for you inside, and you start off by laughing so loud at Gamzee wearing a dress that you almost get kicked out.  
The events that continue will go down in history.  
Meenah somehow slips gold fish in the punch, which Roxy promptly spikes, Gamzee lifts Tavros out of his chair and cradles him for a slow dance, Jane smashes cake in John's face (in response to which he squeals like a baby), Dave gets in a breakdancing battle with a few people (mainly Equius, Dirk, and Latula), Mituna tries to skateboard to go get some punch and ends up faceplanting into the table and making snacks go everywhere, then someone touches while you're dancing and he starts shrieking like a car alarm and everyone took two steps away from him.  
By the end of the night, by the last dance, you're smiling so wide your face feels as if it's going to split in two.  
The music begins playing, and you feel a tap on your elbow. You turn around to see the colorful light reflecting off Dave's huge glasses.  
"Hello, beautiful. May I have this dance?" he bows ironically, and his slight twang makes your heart skip a beat.  
"Of course, Dave!" you let him guide you to the center of the gym, linking his arms around your waist and pulling you close.  
"You really do look beautiful, Jade." he whispers in your ear, resting his cheek in your hair.  
You thank him with a smile, and together you sway to the soft music.  
"I love you," he whispers again, and you smile a bit bigger against his shoulder.  
"I love you too."  
And you really do.


	11. Day Eleven (Gamzee/Tavros)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Eleven: Favorite Pesterlog  
> Oh goodness  
> http://www.mspaintadventures.com/scratch.php?s=6&p=005886  
> Since I'm a huge sucker for GamTav, and sick fires.  
> Gets a little bit from the canon story at the end but oh well I honestly can't write anything happy

Day Eleven: favorite pesterlog.

You don't know how to deal with it when he tells you.  
You don't even know if it counts as a confession, you tell yourself, he's sopor'd out of his mind enough not to mean it.  
You're still shocked.  
One moment, the two of you are bustin' out sick beats, rhyming about everything and anything, just having a bitchin' good time, and then...  
He's asking for you to come over sometime, to which you totally agree. You'd love to hang out with your best bro!  
And then Gamzee's bringing up that damned pie, and asking you to make out with him.  
It's when he sends that stupid clown wink that your vascular pump stops beating.  
You stare at your husktop, normally narrow eyes wide.  
Could he genuinely have red feelings for you?  
He's hinted at it before, sure.  
Said he's "get his mad mack on" with you, sure.  
But.. that doesn't mean that you don't still get a jolt in your chest cavity every time he says anything to you even hinting the slightest bit that he feels flushed for you, of all trolls.  
This is the first time that he worded it as an actual preposition.  
The only response you can form is ",,," because you're an idiot.  
Your heart keeps racing, and you don't want him to think you left him so you just keep typing dashes.  
You try to imagine being in a red romance with him.  
Gamzee draped over your lap on your chair.  
Gamzee leaning towards you, puckering up slightly with his eyes shut.  
You kissing him gently, avoiding the fangs.  
How sweet he'd taste, fresh like the berries that grow on the edges of the cliffs by your hive, against your tongue.  
Oh gog, what do you do?   
You're shaking as you push a hand through your dark, fluffy mohawk.  
You feel flushed for him already.  
You always have.  
You remember the first time he talked to you, and you were kind of confused at his bright purple, whimsical text, and his strange trollian handle.  
terminallyCapricious.   
You'd gotten to know him slowly.  
Learned about his strange yet interesting religion.  
Had him explain to you why he eats so much sopor, how he got started doing it.  
How he goes crazy without it.  
How although his blood is so high, he has no problem being so close to someone like you.  
You look at the open chat before you, where Gamzee has sent several messages asking if you're ok.  
You're about to message him back, telling him how you feel.  
You shake out your limbs (the functioning ones, anyway) to try and get the jitters out before placing your fingers back on the keyboard.  
You get three mild brown words into your confession when your Trollian chimes a series of eight dings, Vriska's call.  
You talk to her instead of Gamzee for a few moments.  
Soon, your low blood is boiling with rage.  
You can't take her anymore.  
You've had it.  
It's time to end this.  
You force yourself out of your chair, setting the husktop onto the floor before falling down onto your belly. You drag yourself to your weapon, mumbling curses and huffing, and grab it before remembering Gamzee.  
You grab your husktop again and shoot off a quick message to Gamzee Makara.  
You tell him you'll be back very soon.  
Then you leave to face the spiderbitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry ok


	12. Day Twelve (Dave/His Shades)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day twelve: Your favorite planet  
> Land of Heat and Clockwork  
> I got about halfway through this and I realized that I've never seen Dave/Shades redrom before  
> I really wish it would have stayed that way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a side note; I had too much faygo and too little sleep last night. You really shouldn't read this

Tick.  
Tock.  
Tick.  
Tock.  
The clockwork is constantly turning, banging, crashing below you. Bits of steel break from the intricate machinary and crash to the rushing sea of lava below, which splashes up into the air high enough for there to be a flash of heat and light in your apartment through the window.  
You're currently curled beside said window, sitting on a pile of smuppets and hugging your sweat-slicked body.  
It's always hot here. Always. Even more so than Houston, which makes this goddamned place a fiery fucking inferno. You're a sweaty mess all the time, and you actually need your ironic as hell shades to protect your red eyes from the fire outside.   
You study the land outside.  
Your world is cool as fuck, yeah. Steel framework all over this bitch, stretching up into the sky from a blood-red sea of fire and hot molten rock. You see little bursts of flame coming up from the liquid mass below you as you peek your head out from your window, heat stinging your face.  
You jerk as a bit of fire comes up unnaturally high, and your shades fall from your face. ]  
You gasp and nearly tumble out into the air as you stretch out your arm desperately, barely snatching them with your fingertips before they spiral out of reach.  
You push yourself back, eyes wide and wild. You're breathing heavily at how close you came to losing your sunglasses, the ones John got you so long ago. You clutch them to your bare chest, gasping.  
They're not just sunglasses. Those have been with you since before this goddamned game, before shit hit the fan and you were all doomed. Well, you found out you were fucking doomed.   
These shades aren't just some lame-ass thing that once touched Ben Stiller's oddly proportioned face. They're a part of you, however lame it seems.  
You don't know what'd happen if you lost them.  
"Shh, shades, it's alright. You're still kickin' up sicknasty miracles. Shhh," you pap your beloved sunglasses, careful not to smudge the beautiful, reflective glass.  
You rub your precious lady against your smooth cheek.  
"Ohh, Dave," Shades whisper against your cheek, breath cool against your skin.  
"I'm sorry if I scared you, baby."  
"Oh, it's alright, Dave. As long as you're still here for me." she purrs.  
"Always, my dear. Always." you say, and give her a light kiss on the frame before pulling her closer to you on the pile of smuppets.  
She asks you to tell her a story, so you do, watching the fire bubble up outside as you tell her of past times. You listen to the sounds from the gears outside, matching the beating of your heart.  
Tick.  
Tock.  
Tick.  
Tock.


	13. Day Thirteen (Dave/Music Redrom)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 13: Derse or Prospit  
> I was trying to write something with characters actually on Derse but that wasn't happening  
> I was feeling Dave and music so uhh  
> Derse is a club and DJ Stridenasty is their best DJ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my goodness this is a few days late. I didn't have access to a computer, sorry!

Dave spins the records with one hand, the other pressing his red and black headphones to his ear. His deft, long fingers flip switches like it's going out of style, and his hunched body bobs slightly to the beat.  
Music flows out of the huge speakers on the floor below the stage where the DJ booth is set, and a huge crowd of people write in time to the beat on the floor before him. The club is entirely shades of dark purple, owned by some rich hipster named Eridan that Dave only had the misfortune of meeting once or twice.  
In a minute or two, with some more scratches and a lot of bass, the song comes to an end.  
He's quiet for a few moments, looking through his equiptment to find just the right thing for the last song of his nightly set here at Derse.  
The croud starts to get louder, chanting his name.  
"Heeey, folks. Chill your fuckin' tits--- just looking for the perfect thing to serenade your sweet, sweet selves before I'm swept away for the rest of the night." he smirks into his mic, slight Texan twang creeping into his voice.  
Dave puts a standard club mix on play, something he mixed a few days ago when he just wanted to keep the club happy.  
The croud cheers again, murmuring among themselves.  
Dave smirks when it hits him what mix to play, setting up and waiting for the current song to end.  
When it comes close, he leans close to the mix and introduces the last song, speaking over the quiet thump of the bass.  
"Yall have been pretty awesome tonight, but here it's almost time for me to go."  
There's a generally disapproving noise from the crowd, a few chicks flashing their tits at Dave in his DJ booth.  
He chuckles, nodding at them and giving a brief catcall.  
"Anyway, here's this last mix, something I think you'll like." he flips a switch and the underlying bass starts pumping. A few overlying tracks are added one at a time.  
The song starts off relatively slow, a string of piano that Dave convinced his boyfriend John to record for him.  
Speaking of John--as Dave lets the mix build up, he spots John with a group of their friends (Rose, Jade, Karkat, Terezi, and Sollux namely) grinding in the center of the crowd.  
John turns to look at him, blue eyes wide as he sees Dave looking in his direction. He waves excitedly before getting lost in the crowd, and Dave finds himself smiling a bit.  
Just before dropping the bass, Dave leans in close to the mic and yells a final tagline that club Derse requires him to say at least twice per show. It's pretty fucking annoying, but it keeps the clubmonkeys knowing where they're at and who they're listening to, so Dave doesn't really complain.  
"REMEMBER, KIDDIES---I'M DJ STRIDENASTY AND THIS IS CLUB DERSE!"  
The kids in the crowd all throw themselves in the air as the bass drops suddenly, leading to a loud, electronic refrain full of scratches, at least six songs playing at the same time and all being refrained and twisted and amplified to create a strong, almost overpowering techno beat.  
The crowd looks almost transfixed, dancing and swinging into each other to the beat.  
The club smells of alcohol, sweat, excitement, and sex, and Dave loves it. It's loud with thudding music and people having a good time, trying to yell over the beat.  
The song drags on several minutes longer than the others, Dave swift fingers expertly flying across his turntables, flipping switches and spinning records and adjusting knobs.  
Eventually he brings it to a close, breathing a bead of sweat slicked on his forehead and the red sleeves of his iconic broken-record shirt rolled up around his elbows.  
"Well, that's it. Again, this is club Derse and I'm DJ Stridenasty, signing out!"


	14. Day Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day fourteen; Midnight Crew or the Felt?  
> This turned into teenage, humanstuck Midnight Crew coming into a haunted house and the kids scaring them because I was feeling 2SPOOKY today

"I told you this was a stupid idea! We could have just stayed home, crushed Team Felt at COD again!"  
"But Spades said that he--"  
"I don't care what Spades said, Clubs. I think---"  
"GOD, WILL YOU TWO FUCKING IDIOTS SHUT UP? I DON'T CARE WHAT WE SHOULD BE DOING, WE'RE DOING THIS. WE'RE MAKING THIS HAPPEN, BECAUSE SPADES SAID SO AND WE ALWAYS DO WHAT HE SAYS FOR SOME REASON."  
"But Diamonds, just THINK of how the Felt would feel if we beat 'em 28-0 again..."  
The group of black-clad teenagers creep up the hill, the three bickering boys led by a determined-looking, tall, lanky kid looking oh so fed up with their shit.  
It takes a while for them to reach the abandoned house at the top of the hill, and the four of them, panting heavily, stand on the rickety porch for a moment and stare at the door.  
Spades takes a deep breath and extends a hand to the doorknob, scowling as he twists it.  
The rest of the Crew brace themselves for the door to the haunted house to open, holding their breath.  
There's a thud, then the doorknob stops.  
"Oh, fucking hell--" Spades swears at the locked door, dusting off his hand on his black jeans.  
"Hold on, boss." Hearts says in a gruff voice, pushing Spades aside and appraising the old, peeling wooden door.  
With a grunt and a flex of muscle, the door's off the hinges and lying on the creaky porch beside the doorway.  
"Well, that was easy." Spades says after a moment of silence, stepping over the fallen door and through the doorway, black boot thudding against the floor on the other side of the threshhold. The rest of the group file in after him.  
"Shit, it's cold in here," Hearts mutters, shivering slightly.  
Spades ignores him, taking in the large foyer. He takes a few steps towards the huge spiral staircase in the center of the room, running a finger over the horse-hitcher railing and glaring at his digit when it comes back thickly coated in dust.  
He goes to take a step up the stairs, but upon putting any weight on the wooden surface it splits in the middle and Spades makes a highly undignified noise as his foot goes straight though and into the mess of maggots inside, where he gets lodged.  
"HELP ME! HELP ME, YOU FOOLS!" Spades shrieks, trying desperately to free himself. He flails his arms towards the other three goons, squealing.  
They stand there in shock for a moment, then they all go to help their leader at once, running into each other.  
Spades continues squealing as they get into a scuffle among themselves, grunting and pushing each other around.  
"GOD DAMMIT HEARTS, HELP ME!"  
There's a moment of confusion as Hearts untangles himself from Clubs and Diamonds before apoligizing and tugging Spades out of the hole with ease. He tugs too hard, and Spades flops onto the dusty wooden floor.  
He scoffs and pulls himself up immediately, dusting off his clothes immediately in an attempt to recover. As he does that, he hears the unmistakable sound of a girlish giggle.  
"Who's there?" he calls, narrowing his eyes as he sees a shadow flash across the room.  
"I don't see anyone--" Clubs starts, stalled by Spades shooshing him.  
"I heard someone. I definately---"  
"OooooOOOOooooo!" a sound comes from the far corner of the empty room. The four kids spin around and see a glowing girl in the corner, clad in a flowing black dress and striped stalkings. She fades into darkness just under her knees. Her eyes behind her circular glasses are all white, and her face is heart-shaped and blank.  
"What are you dooooing here?" she asks in a spooky, hollow voice.  
"W-w-we were just- we were, uh--" Clubs stammers, eyes widening.  
"Were just what, you derpy little fucktards?" another voice comes from behind them, and the boys turn again to see a tall blonde boy dressed in red with a cape flowing after him standing in the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest. His face is straight and half-obscured by idiotic sunglasses.  
"Who the hell are you?" Spades asks, getting kind of freaked out.  
"You better cut the fuckin' attitude, Junior. I'll haunt your ass." the blonde boy says, clicking his tongue in disapproval.  
"You best be getting out now." a high pitched, elegant voice comes from behind the group, right beside Spades's ear. He sees a hooded, yellow-clad girl standing over his shoulder and shrieks.  
"FUCK THIS!" Diamonds grunts and barrels towards the exit, knocking the blonde boy out of the way in his haste. The others are still for a moment before following him, Spades leaving a moment after the others.  
As soon as the Crew were out of view and earshot, Dave switches the lights on and busts out laughing. Rose is next, then Jade, then John starts giggling so hard Jade nearly falls off of his shoulders.  
"Ok, Lalonde..." Dave says, crossing the room and draping an arm around his sister's shoulders and grinning. "Pranking those fuckin' idiots may have been the best idea that ever popped out of your hentai-drowned think pan."  
"It was pretty great, Rose!" John laughs, letting Jade hop off of his shoulders.  
"Yeah! Did you see their faces? They looked like they were gonna pee!"  
"They did look quite frightened." Rose says, putting a hand over her mouth as she chuckles.  
"And when his foot went through the steps I---"  
John's cut off by sirens of police cars wailing, getting closer.  
"OH SHIT!" is the general reply by the four kids, who ARE breaking and entering, after all.  
"Let's blow this popsicle stand!" Dave says, snickering at the irony as the four left the old house, hauling ass down the hill to avoid the flashing lights nearing the place.  
As they leave, a shimmering figure of a girl plops down, annoyed, on the top of the steps.  
"0h, b00. I really th0ught they w0uld stick ar0und f0r a while!" Aradia pouts, her hair resting weightlessly around her flickering gray figure.  
"0h well. They have t0 c0me back s0metime.." she sighs, flickering into nothing as the police come into the house, empty once again.


	15. Day Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 15: Doc Scratch or Bec Noir?  
> Bec Noir, even though I hate him. I still can't forgive him for killing my favorites ono  
> In which Dave has to watch himself die.

Bec Noir is terrifying.  
He's at least seven feet tall, covered in thick, dark fur. His eyes are glowing and white, a deep scar marring the skin around one. Around his neck hangs a ragged pink, red, and yellow bandana, marked with the Spade of his past life.  
And that snarl.  
His snout is always screwed up in a hostile growl, tufts of fur on either side of his face bristling at his anger with everything and anything.  
Which is why you're shaking with fear as you watch your alternate self, curled up on the cracked rock of his red quest bed, breath even in sleep and ghosting over the rough surface. You know HE will be here soon, and you know you can't warn him.  
You just touch press your fingertips to the cool surface of your laptop's screen, over where Doomed Dave lies, snoozing away, completely oblivious to what's about to happen.  
He wakes abruptly, sitting bolt upright, panting. He probably suffered from the same night terrors you face every night. He dusts off his suit, mumbling something you can't hear. It's likely him commenting to himself about how fuckin' snazzy he looks, cause he does.  
Your breath catches in your chest as you study him, realizing how similar you two are.  
He IS you, after all.  
You are technically him.  
And he's about to die.  
He stands a little shakily, oblivious as he wiggles his toes inside his green shoes as he pulls himself off the rock slab. You know this because every morning when you wake up, you do the same thing. Ever since that day when you were about six and Bro coated your feet in butter while you were sleeping so that when you stood you'd slide across the wooden floor and into a pile of smuppets, you have to make sure he isn't about to troll you. Even now.  
He's still for a moment, and you can tell by the flash from his iShades against his pale skin that he's pestering someone. Probably Terezi.  
You can tell she's not responding right away by the way he screws up his eyebrows in annoyance.  
You do the same.  
He waits for her to reply, shifting from one foot to the other awkwardly. There's another flash, signalling her reply. You know she said something confusing by the way one side of his mouth twitches downward.  
You do the same thing.  
Bro could always tell--even if it was just a twitch, a movement of an eyebrow, the slight narrowing of eyes even behind your shades--how you felt. It always made you feel defenseless, open. Weak.  
You wonder how this Dave would feel if he knew you were watching him, knew what was going through his head.  
He probably wouldn't like it.  
A moment later, you see him. A brief flicker behind Dave, probably unnoticable by anyone who didn't know to look for him.  
Dave sees it too, and he turns.  
Time seems to pass in slow motion as he turns.  
Bec Noir is there, of course. Just standing there, looming over your alternate self.  
You're filled with rage at the sight of him standing there, and it boils over as you realize those are Bro's goddamned glasses resting on his ugly mutt face.  
He doesn't deserve to even be within ten feet of those glasses. They were BRO's. Bro was a hero. Bec Noir isn't. He's just.. bad. Evil. Nothing else, simply a machine of killing and hatred.  
You grunt, gripping the edges of your computer chair so hard your knuckles turn whiter than they already are.  
You can't look away as you see the flicker of confusion on his face, then the flash as a dagger is pulled and drawn across his face. Both of his hands go to where he's bleeding, then back in front of his face. He looks confused, as if he's wondering where all that blood is coming from. His face tilts up to look at Bec, mouth hanging open slightly. Then his green-clad legs buckle at the knees, and he falls. His shades slide off his face as he clunks to the floor.  
His eyes are wide, red, and glossing over fast.  
Blood pulls around him, darkening the already-red dirt.  
He tries to say something, but it only comes out as a muffled gurgle.  
You watch the life drain out of his eyes.  
When his body jerks once more then is still, a sob rips its way out of your chest. You grunt, tears streaking down from your mutant eyes. You stand, angry.  
He didn't deserve to die by the hand of that fucking CREEP. He didn't deserve to die at all. Noir didn't even stay to watch him die, to hear that final heart-wrenching gurgle of a dying boy. He was a coward.  
You stand, kicking your chair away from you. It spins wildly.  
You let out a cry of pain and anger and throw out an arm, throwing everything from off your desk. Your laptop falls to the floor, and you wince at the sound of it breaking.  
You don't have time to care.  
You feel yourself breaking, slide down to your knees.  
Tears stream down your face as you put your head in your hands and scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on a happier note  
> YAAAAAAAAAY HALFWAY THROUGH THIS THING!


	16. Day Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 16: Your favorite member of the Felt/Midnight Crew  
> I don't like any of them better than the others, so I just wrote what came out.  
> (What came out was Hearts Boxcars terrorizing Tavros)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh, there's a little bit of a suicide trigger here. I'm not sure if this is actually bad enough to trigger someone, but I'd feel way too bad if I actually triggered someone not to tag this.

You hear him more often than not, voice louder than any of your thoughts.  
It's a dull, accented shout, always insulting you and making you feel bad.  
"Yur worthless, boy."  
"Why do I bother with you, boy?"  
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU, BOY?"  
You don't like it.  
It's loud and it hurts your head and your feelings and you don't like it.  
Rufio always tells you not to worry about it, that the things the voice says to you aren't true, that you're a good troll and he's just a bitter thing.  
"Tavros, he's just not a pure person."  
"He hasn't a clue of what an adventurous lad you are!"  
"He's just jealous that you're more well-liked than him, Tavros."  
He makes fun of you for speaking to Rufio, too.  
Says he's not real.  
That you're just fooling yourself.  
That he needs to knock some sense into you, and he that he'd like to one day.  
He makes you feel bad.  
Worse than Vriska.  
You hate him. A lot of your friends think that it's not possible for you to hate someone, and so did you until you started hearing him.  
You hate him in the most platonic, most genuine way possible of your species.  
You're not sure how that makes you feel.  
You're not used to hating people.  
You just know you hate him.  
Even now, he's in your head. Screaming.  
Always screaming.  
It hurts, all the time. You press your hands on either side of your head, right beside where your horns extend out of your head, and will him to go away.  
"Shut up! Just shut your chitinous windtrap for one second. No, better yet, uh.. shut it for the rest of forever because you're really annoying and I don't like you!" you scream, closing your eyes tightly.  
He scoffs at you.  
Calls you an idiot.  
Says you're a stupid troll unfit of even living on Alternia.  
Undeserving of living at all.  
He scolds you for being so annoying. Naive. Scared.  
Worthless.  
You're shaking by the time his heavily accented voice stops insulting you for a moment.  
There's a brief, peaceful pause before he starts assaulting your think pan again, twice as fiercely.  
You stand shakily, all senses numbed by the deafening shriek inside your head.  
You know what you need to do.  
You need it to stop.  
You stumble through the headquarters to the weapon room, ignoring you friends as they call after you, a determined look on your brown-flushed face.  
You stare at the table piled with knives, hunched over slightly.  
He catches on after a moment.  
"What the hell do you think yur doin'?"  
You reach out and grab a wickedly sharp blade, gripping it so tightly your knuckles turn white.  
"You're not gonna do it, fool."  
You slowly bring it up your body, gritting your teeth.  
"Whoah, wait, kid. We can talk through this! You don't--"  
You close your eyes tightly, breath coming faster.  
You press the edge of the dagger against your throat.  
"DON'T FUCKIN' DO IT BOY! YER INSANE!"  
You press it harder against your rough skin, feeling a little bit of chocolate-colored blood trail down your neck.  
"DON'T--"  
You silence him for good.


	17. Day Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Seventeen: Favorite Derse Agent  
> Wow, I don't know much about these little guys. I had to pick the Draconian Dignitary because what a little boss.  
> In which Agent D is old, and it's time to die.

He leans over the railing of his top-floor New York City apartment balcony, bringing a cigarette to his lips and studying the bustling nocturnal city below him.  
His drag is broken by the sputtering cough of old age, and he mutters a curse as he spits out a glob of blood that lands on the cement beside his thick-soled black boot with a sickening splat.  
He curses again, wiping his grizzly scarred face with the back of his hand.  
Agent D has seen a lot in his time on Earth. He's had many friends, many enemies, many names. He's been many places, had many loves, held many jobs. He's loved (however strange that sounds.) He's lost (again.)  
Agent D's life is coming to an end, and he knows it.  
He can feel his heart growing weaker, strength fading from his bones.  
The fact that he's old doesn't mean he isn't still sharp, doesn't still know his way around a few daggers, can't still hold his own in a fight, can't sneak around some guards like it's nothing.  
No, Agent Draconian Dignitary can still kick ass. Just not for much longer.  
He wonders how long he'll last idly as he forces another drag of smoke into his wheezing lungs. How long until he'll finally keel over on his own, draw his last shuddering breaths of air feeling alone and weak.  
He suddenly feels angry. No--he's Agent D! He once cleared out an entire gang from New York in one night singlehandedly! He won't die by something as stupid and weak as old age. That's for chums, and Agent D is anything but a chum.  
He throws his burned-out cigarette off the balcony, turning around.  
He was going to die tonight, and now on his own.  
He would die honorably, strongly.  
He enters his beat-up apartment, slamming the door to the balcony shut behind him.  
He takes his time suiting up, knowing it will be his last.  
First, the suit. Black and crisp, tightly fitting against his broad shoulders. Then, he replaces his high black boots and stands, brushing himself off.  
He grabs his midnight-black trench coat off the coat rack by the door, complete with his little red diamond insignia on the breast, sliding it on and fastening all the white buttons slowly, painstakingly. Last comes the black and white scarf wrapped tightly around his neck.  
Agent D looks down, making everything is in place. One has to look sharp for his suicide mission, you know! Dapper, even!  
Agent D snorts at the thought, spurring on a fit of wet coughs.  
He feels a new pain deep in his chest and shakes his head, slipping on some black gloves almost as an afterthought.  
He heads into his bedroom, opening up his weapons drawer with a thin smile.  
His gloved hands ghost over the multitude of different knives, guns, and other exotic and dangerous pieces he's collected over the years.  
He picks his favorite knives, slinging them open and through the air expertly to get the feel for each one before slipping them in his deep pockets.  
He's ready.  
With one last glance at a picture of his crew, all deceased but him (oh, that'll change soon), the Draconian Dignitary heads out of his apartment for the last time, head set on finding trouble.  
As his mind drifts to Jake English, son of his long-term rival, he knows just the right place.  
Agent D goes to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW done with prompts having to do with characters I'm not as obsessed with (Midnight Crew, exiles, Derse agents, etc.)  
> The last few have been really bad because reasons  
> Gomen, it should get better after now


	18. Day Eighteen (EriSol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 18: Favorite overall character  
> Sollux Captor, of course!  
> In which Roxy ruins Eridan's computer and he has to ask for help. ouo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I say lispily because that's a thing that's about to happen

You narrow your mismatched eyes in concentration, carefully pulling a precariously placed wooden piece out of its slot.  
Slowly, ever so slowly, you draw it towards you.  
"C'mon Sollux! Stop being so sloooooow!" Vriska screeches, and you give her the death glare from behind your glasses.  
"Jenga is serious fucking business," you hiss lispily before returning back to your slow progress.  
It's Tuesday afternoon, and it's a slow day at the small tech shop you, Dirk, Nepeta, and Vriska work at (but when ISN'T it a slow day at Scratch's?), which means all-day electronica and game tournaments (which you may or may not take slightly too seriously.)  
You need to win this game.  
Need need /need/ to win this game.  
Not that you don't need to win EVERY game (okay maybe a little) but Vriska dissed your mad Jenga skills earlier and you need to show that bitch what's up.  
Which is why you're crawling by at a snail's pace, feeling a bead of sweat slip down your crooked nose at the concentration.  
"Almost.... there... nearly.. got it..." you grunt, about to pull the last little bit of wooden block out, when suddenly.. the shop's phone rings.  
You jerk, smashing the entire swaying wooden castle to the ground. Nepeta lets out a startled  
"JESUS FUCKING SHIT GOD DAMN FUCKING PHONE YOU IDIOTIC PIECE OF FUCKING MACHINERY--" you screech, throwing yourself up from your balanced crouch on the wood floor. You hear Dirk snort from his beanbag chair where he's texting (probably his brother-slash-boyfriend, Dave. They're always talking somehow, and it's really fucking weird), never looking up from his phone.  
You stomp to the front counter where the phone is, Vriska cackling wildly behind you.  
"Sollux Captor, you've reached Scratch's electronics, what the hell do you need?" you huff, slight lisp affecting the seriousness of your words.  
"Oh, my! Watch your LEWD language, Sully!" Vriska hollers from the break room, mocking Nepeta's weird-ass boyfriend (and by the muffled yell that comes from Vriska, Nep doesn't appreciate it).  
You roll your eyes and pay attention to the call, line silent.  
"Hello?"  
"W-well, fuck, Sol, that's no w-way to greet your boyfriend!" Eridan whimpers, sounding hurt.  
You sigh in frustration.  
"I was kind of in the middle of something important, ED. Something WORK-RELATED, seeing as I'm working and you're only supposed to call this number if there's an extremely extreme fucking emergency."  
"Oh, but Sol, this is extremely fuckin' extreme--"  
"More extreme than the last seven times you called with extreme emergencies?" you sigh in exasperation, remembering the times in the past when he called for a bunch of stupid things (being out of hair gel, not knowing if the pie your friend Gamzee left at the door was poison or not, his favorite record store being closed and him not having the times), which you ultimately credited to boredom and lack of friends.  
"Yes! Sol, this is DRASTIC. Stop makin' fun of my past emergencies, you asshole." he says severely, sounding kind of pissed.  
"Ok, ED, I'm listening.." you sigh again dramatically, pulling over a computer chair and sitting down, reclining and resting your long legs across the desk.   
"THAT FUCKIN' WITCH DID IT AGAIN."  
"Who, ED?" you ask with exaggerated patience.  
"ROXY. SHE DID IT /AGAIN./"  
"What, ED?"  
"PUT A SPELL ON MY COMPUTER!"  
"Magic isn't real, ED."  
"FUCK YOU, SOL, THIS IS SERIOUS."  
"Fine. I take it Roxy sent you a virus again?"  
"Yes. But before you can fuckin' yell at me for downloadin' it, just let me say that it popped up as Justin Beiber tellin' me I won a lifetime's supply of his hair product for bein' so creative and darin' with my look. How was I not to accept?"  
"God damnit, ED, this is the sixth time this month." you sigh again, rubbing circles into your left temple with your freakishly long fingers. Roxy Lalonde and your infamous boyfriend have a long-standing war for some reason no one (including them, most likely) knows the cause of anymore. Eridan just puts hair dye in her shampoo when he's over seeing her sister Rose, who makes the clothes he designs, and Roxy sends him horrible viruses that it takes even you a while to sort out.  
"Ok, ED, just bring it down here." you sneak a quick glance at the clock on the wall before adding, "But get here /on the double./ My shift's almost over."  
"Oh, god damnit Sol! Stop with the double puns! I don't use fish puns anymore, you shouldn't be able to indulge you stupid two fetish."  
"Just shut your pretty face and bring me the computer."  
You hang up before he can say anything, sighing and turning around in the swivel chair.  
"Roxy got him again, huh?" Dirk asks, still texting.  
"Why does she hate him so fuurrriously?" Nepeta squeaks, looking up from where she was wrestling with Vriska on the floor.  
"I don't fucking know. They just get on each others' nerves, I guess."  
"Hey Sollux." Vriska chuckles from the floor, throwing Nepeta off of her and straightening up.  
"What, spiderbitch?" you're really not in the mood for her.  
"I TOLD YOU YOU WEREN'T THE JENGA GOD!"  
You two argue for a while before, with a cloud of perfume and "swagger" that could kill an elephant, Eridan busts into the shop, scarf trailing behind him.  
"Hello, peasants." he says, nodding at your coworkers than you. "Honeyglub."  
You shake your head at his stupid, "creative" pet name, rolling your eyes again. You swear, if he keeps this up your eyes are going to fall out of your head.  
"Just show me the stupid computer, ED." you mutter, wrapping an arm around his waist and wrapping your fingers under his expensive-looking bedazzled belt idly as you wait for him to get his computer out of his purple-dyed army tote.  
Your eyes widen as he pulls his normally pristine violet Macbook and presents it to you.  
"Holy fuck, ED, how did she..? What did you...?" you ask. There are a few impressed whistles (and a drawn out, eight-syllable "Daaaaaaaamn") from behind you at the sight.  
The computer is completely wrecked, wires and other things hanging out of a still-smoking hole in the center of it.  
"I may have put just a little of some organic laxative in her martini.."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps Sollux has yaoi hands  
> nothing can stop me ahahahahaha


	19. Day Nineteen (Dave/Dirk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 19: Dedicated to you moirail  
> Well, that'd have to be Windispooks on tumblr! Cassieeee!  
> She requested Stridercest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oopsies this turned out to be 4000 words

You sit at the picnic table by yourself, feeling really fucking bored and really fucking hot.  
It's the first Strider family reunion in years, and Bro was feeling sentimental or some shit so he packed you and some food up into his rusty grey pickup late, late last night and drove a few states over to something-or-other national park for a day full of bugs, trees, and old family members you're quite sure you've never seen before squealing your name and pulling at the skin already stretched tight across your cheekbones in a way that's likely supposed to be loving but really just annoys you.  
So you retreated quietly to the farthest corner of the clearing where the picnic is at, trying desperately not to be noticed.  
As you huddle in a sweaty, gangly pile of teenage mess trying not to be noticed, you feel sick with a severe case of uncool. You're hiding from a bunch of old ladies and prepubescent girls (who seem to have been crawling around in a gaggle, looking at you and whispering amongst themselves. You can't help it--you're a smokin' piece of Strider) at a wooden picnic table which you're fairly certain is leaving splinters all throughout your immaculate ass.  
You stand up, deciding to fix the uncool after adjusting your shades so they rest farther up your sweaty nose. You brush off your dusty ass and adjust the pro-grade camera slung around your neck, catching Bro's eye across the clearing and giving him a brief nod, which he returns, and you turn to head into the woods to take some pictures. You slip your hands in your pockets (not helping the heat situation, but, hey, you have a coolkid rep to uphold here! Even if no one's around to see it..)  
You stop after a few moments, standing still below a particularly tall tree. You sigh irritably, drawing the back of your hand across your sweat-slicked forehead.  
"Trust the Strider family to pick the hottest day in years to have their stupid-ass family reunion."  
"I agree." comes a deep, more-Texan-twang-than-Texas voice from behind you. You turn, trying not to show that he scared the living daylights out of you.  
"Who are you?" you ask evenly, even as your heart thuds and thuds in your chest.  
You take him in--tall, way taller than you and you're no shorty, pretty built, golden-colored hair expertly spiked despite the heat. He's wearing shades like you, only his are eerily similar to your Bro's. Hm. You didn't know anyone else wore his awesome anime shades.  
"Dirk Strider." he says a little awkwardly, reaching out a calloused hand to you.  
You stare at it for a moment before taking it in your own; you'd forgotten anyone actually shook hands anymore. His hand is big, and it envelopes yours easily.  
"Dave Strider. What are you, like a cousin or something?"  
"Um, brother, actually. Our Bros are Bros." he nods.  
Your eyes widen behind your shades--you had no clue Bro had a brother other than you. Fuck, you didn't know YOU had a brother other than your brother.  
"Um, what?"  
"He never told you? Yeah, we live down in San Antonio."  
"What?" you repeat, still pretty shocked.  
He snorts, likely rolling his eyes behind his dark shades.  
"Sit down. I'll explain."  
"Like hell am I sitting down on these pine needles! I'll scrape the fuck out of my immaculate ass!"  
"Fine, BABY." he huffs irritatedly, slipping his black tank top over his head and revealing a taut, chiseled torso. Your breath catches in your chest as you watch him lay it out on the ground, then look at you expectantly. You look back, confused.  
"Well?"  
"What?" you repeat once again, forever king of the coolkids.  
"Sit down so I can tell you the fucking story." he says, sitting indian-style on the rough ground beside his shirt.  
You sit hesitantly, trying not to stare at him.  
"Well.."  
________  
An hour later you've got two new brothers and plans for tonight.  
You're not going to even get into the newfound brothers thing; your head is already pounding from Dirk's explaining as you walk back to the clearing, light fading from behind the trees.  
"Hey, little bro, you ready to--oh.." Bro's cut off when he notices you walking (slightly closer than normal) next to Dirk.  
"Yeah, oh. Why didn't you tell me we had more brothers?" you narrow your eyes at Bro, seeing another, taller, older-looking man coming up behind him.  
"Yeah, Bro. Why didn't you tell him about us?" the newcomer looks a lot more like you than Bro, with the same fine white-blond hair, high cheekbones, slightly curved nose, and even the same kind of silver-rimmed Aviators.  
"Well, I thought it might wait till he was a little older. The story IS kind of confusing," he replies.  
"Well, I got it, but from a stranger who I find out is my twin brother instead of the man I've lived with all my life. Thanks." is the snappiest thing you can say to Bro before stomping away, crawling into the pick-up truck and putting your face in your hands and letting out a stressed-out sigh.  
A few minutes later, the door opens hesitantly, and a body sinks into the seat beside you.  
"You ok?" the deep voice comes from beside you, hand rubbing circles against your back, even over your sharp spine.  
"Yeah. I'm just.. it's a lot." you say quietly.  
He makes a quiet noise, then is silent for a few moments.  
"It looks like I'm staying with you for a little while. Your Bro wants to get to know me, I guess."  
You just take a deep breath, relaxing into the small circles being rubbed into your back.  
A little later, the driver's door is opened much more forcefully and Bro plops in on the seat, not saying a word before turning the key and pulling out of the parking lot.  
"Back to Texas we go, kiddos," he says after a while.  
Sometime in the next half hour you find yourself leaning into Dirk and, as the last of the sun fades from the horizon, you fall asleep in the crook of his arm.  
_____  
"C'mon, lil' man, wake up!" Bro yells into the cab of the truck, tapping on the roof.  
"Um, I can get him, he's not heavy.." Dirk complains groggily, stirring beside you.  
"No way, he can can get his bony ass up to the flat on his own."  
You shake the sleep out of your eyes and look around--it's late in the next day, and already pretty hot. Even though you just slept for god knows how long, you feel like you could go back to sleep for hours, and that's exactly what you intend to do.  
When you hear your stomach growling like nothing you've heard before while you're making the climb to your apartment, you know that that has to wait until you get some goddamned grub in your stomach.  
After Dirk drops his bag inside the apartment door, he goes straight to Lil Cal on the futon.  
"Oh my god, this little guy is great!" Dirk murmurs, inspecting him closely.  
"You bet your ass he is. Lil Cal is the MAN." Bro booms, slamming the door behind him.  
You roll your eyes as they get into a conversation about puppets, rifling through the cabinet until you find some Doritos, which you eat at the counter while watching them talk about the different type of puppets and which is better.  
"Oh, god," you mutter, amused, around the last mouthful of Doritos, which you toss in the trash before heading into the bedroom for a nap.  
You lick off the cheese dust from your fingers, stripping down into your ironically duck-printed boxers before climbing in your bed.  
You roll around for a while, sheets sticking to your sweat-slicked body. You groan about the heat, getting up to shut the blinds. You put your shades on the side table and lie on your side, facing away from the door.  
You snort when you hear the clang of swords falling out of the refrigerator, followed by a yelp and Bro yelling something you can't quite make out. Fuckin' newbies.  
You're shocked when the door opens quietly, shadows falling across you as a person comes in. There's the rustle of clothes coming off, and you spin around to see Dirk in his boxers, face mirroring a doe caught in the headlights as you stare at him in disbelief.  
"What are you doing?!" your voice gets a little shrill, and you cringe.  
"Um.. your bro said I had to sleep in here, because he and Cal get the futon, and it's too hot to sleep with all my clothes on..." he trails off. After a moment of silence he strips his shirt the rest of the way off before sitting on the edge of the bed.  
You try not to watch as he leans over to the bedside table to set his shades down, back muscles rippling healthily as he stretches. His back is covered in tiny white scars, and you imagine running your long fingers over them, feeling the raised surface in comparison to the smooth feel of his normal skin, how his toned abs would feel under your fingertips--nope. No. You're not checking your twin brother out. That's not a thing about to happen.  
You quickly roll so you're not facing him as he lies down on his back next to you, your mattress whining under his weight.  
After a while he turns towards you, slowly getting closer until you can feel his breath on the back of your neck, feel his body pressed up against yours.  
You know it's wrong but you don't complain, not even as he presses his lips against the side of your neck, slowly creeping over to your throat.  
You let out a hushed moan as he suddenly bites down, breaking the skin.  
"Shhh," he murmurs, drawing his lips up to nibble on your ear. "You know we can't be loud, or else your bro will hear.." his voice is husky.  
You feel a burst of confidence that Tavros boy would be jealous of you for lifetimes if he knew about and turn, pressing your lips hard against his. He freezes, and you take advantage of his shock to push him over and roll on top of him, never breaking the kiss.  
Your lips trail over his jaw, down his throat (he moans at that, and you allow yourself a grin) and over that same chest you were fantasizing about earlier. You lower yourself, and as you slowly slip around his orange boxers, it occurs to you that this is "wrong."  
As you position yourself so he can pull yours down too, it doesn't occur to you to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and then they do it in the butt  
> the end


	20. Day Twenty (Gamzee/Tavros)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 20: Dedicated to your matesprit (onespookycrow on tumblr!)  
> He wanted Gamzee and Tavros having fun at a lake, and I'm really bad at fluff, but I tried!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, there's a little bit of Mituna/Latula? Like, it's not about them, but they're there being cute.

"KICKIN' RAD!" Latula yells, kicking off the tree branch with bare feet and doing a flip in the air as she plummets down into the lake below, landing right next to her boyfriend Mituna, who splutters and shrieks as she suddenly splashes him.  
You laugh quietly from your spot laid-out on the bank with an arm around Tavros, watching Latula giggle and splash Mituna more before wrapping her arms around him and kissing all over his accident-scarred face to silence his sputtering.  
"Oh, get a room, you idiots!" Karkat yells angrily from where he's sitting next to Nepeta under the tree everyone's been jumping from.  
"Oh, cool down, sourgills!" Feferi coos from the middle of the lake, where she's been floating around with her brother, Eridan.  
You more watch Karkat rant about how him not "cooling down" is perfectly justifiable than listen, tuning him out and focusing your mad rad hearing senses on the contented sighs coming from your little Tavbro where he sits beside you, reading a book settled in his lap.  
He looks up after a long while (you've no clue how long, you were too zoned out for that, focusing on the miracle that is Tavros), brown eyes wide behind that little scrap of a mohawk always hanging in his face.  
"Gamzee?" he questions, smiling a little. "What're you looking at me for?"  
"You're just a motherfucking miracle, Tav." you say simply, drawing him closer to your bare chest as he giggles and blushes profusely. You suddenly get a great idea for a tickle attack and put it into full effect, drawing your long fingers across his body, over his prominent ribs through his purple t-shirt and tickling his sides.  
"Gamzee, stooop!" he squeaks, laughing so hard his tanned face turns redder than Karkat's temper around Dave Strider (who's on the other side of the lake with Terezi, John, Rose, and Kanaya just to be safe). You just grin louder and straddle him, tickling him some more until he's wheezing and tears of laughter are pouring from his eyes.  
"God, Gamzee!" he wheezes, fighting back more giggles as he tosses you off of him so he can catch his breath.  
He barely has time before you're picking him up and slinging him over your shoulder, his weight nothing on your tall frame.  
"Gaaaaamzee! Stop! What are you doing?" he howls, beating his fists on your bare back halfheartedly.  
"Goin' for a swim." you drawl, grin wide on your face.  
"GAMZEE! You know I don't like swiming! Ohmygod, oh my god, let me gooo!" he screeches, wiggling all around in your arms as you walk into the water, already only in your trunks.  
As you walk deeper into the water, he climbs farther away from it. When you're up to your chest, he's clinging onto your head like a scared cat.  
"C'mon Tavbro! It's just a little water." you say, patting the cute little motherfucker on his head. "It's not gonna.." you keep talking him down, and you have him in your arms, legs wrapped around your torso, face pressed against yours as you whisper nice things into his ear, along with promises for later when Vriska lets out a loud whoop and throws herself into the water, bellyflopping right next to you and Tavros.  
The sound of him squealing can probably be heard through the whole park, same with the sound of Vriska's cackling as he practically flies out of your arms and to the shore, where he climbs partially up the tree and clings to it.  
You give Vriska as mean of a look as you can manage in your high-as-a-kite mood as you stumble ungracefully through the water towards the shore, making your way slowly to your boyfriend. You climb the tree in long, drawn-out movements, climbing up next to his shivering form and taking him in your arms.  
"Shhh, baby, it's alright. You're save, it was just big bad Vriska.." you whimper into his ear, giving him a few light kisses stretching from his forehead to his jaw to comfort him. He lets out a small whimper, and you sit your ass down on the thick tree limb and pull him close to you, dangling your legs in the air below the branch.  
After a while he loses his fear, and he sits tall beside you, bumping your legs together as he watches your friends in the water below.  
You two sit there in comfortable silence for a long time, till after the sun bleeds from behind the trees and the stars shine above you, just being young and free and not having a care in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also; T- 10 DAYS UNTIL THE END OF THIS THING!


	21. Day Twenty One (Dave/John)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 21: Dedicated to your Auspice(s)  
> Well I uh don't really have any of those so one of my shipping buddies was feeling sick so I wrote some DaveJohn based off one of their headcanons  
> The entire thing is based off something Tumblr user Davelaughingalonewithjohnsass said on Skype uvu

You're sick.  
You weren't feeling completely horrible until this morning, when you woke up with barely any voice, a terrible pain in your throat, and a severe case of the sniffles.  
Dave woke to see you a coughing, sniffling mess and completely freaked out, rushing around to get you blankets and make you some soup because no one can get better without soup made with completely unironic loooove and oh poor John you're too sick too call Karkat and tell him you can't come to work today, let me do that plus you look a little sniffly do I need to go down to Rite Aid and get you a humidifier because those little fucks are expensive but I love you so I'll get you one if you need it and are you sure you don't want to go see Doctor Feferi (to which you croaked at him to calm down and reminded him that Fef was a baby doctor and you were twenty two, going to see her was definitely out of the question). He also decided that you were a child completely unable to stay home from work sick for one day without burning the entire apartment building to the ground and called off work too.  
So here you are, laying in bed covered in blankets and tissues and pill bottles with one very worried Strider lying next to you, trying desperately to cuddle you.  
"No! Daaave, you'll get sick too, and then we'll both be icky losers!" you whine (followed by a coughing fit that leads to a small noise and a worried look from Dave) as he puts his arm around you and rests his chin on your chest, obscuring your view of the laptop he set up on the television at the foot of your bed so you could watch Con Air on DVD but not worry about your computer overheating.  
"But babe, I just want you to feel better," he says, not letting you go. You give him a halfhearted push, seriously not wanting him to get sick but enjoying the comfort of his arms around you.  
"Dave! You'll get sick!" you huff again after a moment, and he pulls himself up and covers your face in sloppy kisses before you push him off and tell him to stay on his own side of the bed.  
He creeps closer all through the movie, and by an hour in he's sitting up with you completely in his lap, curled against his chest. He leaves kisses in your hair and on your face absently, tracing the curves of your round face with his lips, ignoring your hoarse complaints.  
You're warm and you don't feel well yet you're perfectly happy (although when Dave gets sick too you're not going to pamper him, he's asking for it!), so with the words "Put the bunny back in the box," you drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.  
____________  
A while later you awake to Dave stirring and "How Do I Live" playing on your laptop. You rub your sleepy eyes and look up to where the touching final scene of Con Air is playing above you.  
You mouth the words, eyes opening a little wider as you try to take in the ending more clearly.  
When it's over in a few minutes your eyes are watering, and you dab at them before blowing your nose.  
"You're gross," Dave mutters in your ear, giving you a tight squeeze before placing you on the mattress and getting up to start another movie.  
You cough absently, watching from your spot curled up in your pillows as he stands and rummages through his DVD collection in the one corner of the room you two share, and you see the twitch that's the Strider equivalent of a smile when not aimed at you as he finds the movie he was looking for.  
He pops it in the disk tray and fast forwards through the previews (which you croak a complaint to, because SERIOUSLY DAVE YOU KNOW THE PREVIEWS ARE MY FAVORITE PART) to the title menu, and you give him an excited look as you see what it is.  
"Lilo and Stitch? Seriously?" you squeak like a little girl because HOLY WOW DAVE STRIDER'S GOING TO WATCH LILO AND STITCH WITH YOU HE'LL NEVER WATCH LILO AND STITCH WITH YOU EVEN THOUGH IT'S ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE MOVIES/TV SHOWS EVER.  
"Yeah, babe, you're feelin' down, better bring out the big guns. And by big guns I mean fuzzy little aliens."  
"DAAAAAAVE!" you squeak happily, giving him a sickly hug when he comes back over to lie down beside you. He hugs back with a chuckle, squeezing you tight and not letting you go until you hear the opening song playing and push away from him, cuddling back up to him and sniffling.  
It's quiet while you watch the movie, a smile on your pale, sickly face, but about half an hour in Dave breaks into your little geekfest.  
"I know why you like this movie so much."  
"Why?" you ask instead of shushing him for once, even though talking in the middle of a movie is INCREDIBLY RUDE, DAVE.  
"Because there's red and blue." he says, referring to the duo in the movie and the two of your favorite colors.  
"No! Dave! That's ridiculous, that's so not it! That's stupid! You're stupid!"  
"Yep. I'm so your Lilo. Fuck yeah."  
"Dave! You're not even like Lilo at all! Like, the only thing you have in common with her is putting shit in jars.." pause for a moment, "and photography. That too."  
Dave nods, looking at you as if waiting for you to say more. At least you think he's looking at you like that. You've gotten pretty good at reading him through his shades, but to be honest sometimes you have no clue what's going on in that pretty little head of his.  
"Plus your ohana isn't... it's just you and your older sibling.." you're quiet for a moment, save for a sniffle and a slight cough before continuing.  
"Oh my god you're Lilo."


	22. Day Twenty-two (Gamzee/Tavros)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 22: Dedicated to your Kismesis  
> Moose I h8 you you suck  
> Today's UPD8 (in which Tavriska became canon) crushed one of my OTP's along with my kokoro, and I was feeling really sad so here, have this. TAKE IT!  
> Human!Sadstuck where Tavros loves Vriska and Gamzee hurts.

It hurts, seeing them together.  
It hurts so much.  
You always paste a fake grin on your painted face and a glazed-over look in your obsidian eyes, passing your distance off on the drugs.  
You're not on them anymore.  
Everyone thinks after that day Karkat made you start up again, keeping you doped up to avoid any more incidents.  
That day you killed two of your friends because of withdrawal.  
You can't make yourself take them. You're too afraid that if you do you'll forget them, like so many other things were wiped from your brain because of those goddamned drugs you kept pumping through your bloodstream because you didn't know how to cope with the world without them.  
You're lucky you didn't get sent to jail. Karkat gave them a proper yet discreet burial so you didn't get locked away for god-knows how long for something you couldn't control--Equius and Nepeta would have wanted the same. They would have understood.  
Tavros forgave you, of course. He was frightened to be around you for a while, and then you showed up in the middle of the night, walking across the entire town in a fearful panic after being woken up by horrible nightmares. You collapsed at his door, screaming for his help. He held you while you cried, sobbed at how stupid he thought he'd been for thinking you would actually mean to kill your friends for hours until the sun came up and you realized you were both just sitting right outside Tavros's house with the door wide open crying in each other's arms. He invited you in and you two slept in his bed for a long time, arms wrapped around each other as you snored softly.  
That was the only time since that day you spent a full night without nightmares, wrapped in his arms with him pressed flush against you until sundown the next day.  
You haven't spoken to him since.   
That night, before you left, he broke the news that he was dating Vriska, and that he couldn't see you anymore. She wouldn't let him.  
Thought you were a bad influence or some shit--you couldn't hear any more after "Gamzee, she says we can't hang out anymore. C'mon, she's, uh... she's my first girlfriend, and I don't want to make her mad. Not many people would like a r-runt like me."  
Your heart broke at that moment. You think Tavros could tell; you saw the pity in his round, chocolate-colored eyes, plain as day.  
You see him around, of course--Vriska lives right beside Karkat, and every time you go over there for a feelings jam Vriska and Tavros are outside together, plus they're in a lot of your classes, but together. They're always together.  
Often Tavros looks like he wants to say something to you, his thick, angular eyebrows knit together and his eyelids droop slightly, accompanied by the way he nervously chews his bottom lip that means he's thinking really hard about something.  
You break inside a little every time you see them together.  
You don't think he does it intentionally.  
No, you know he doesn't do it intentionally.  
Tavros would never hurt you. He just loves her.  
And that's what hurts you the most.


	23. Day Twenty-three (Meenah/Porrim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 23: Favorite flash game  
> Act Six Intermission Three- http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=007163  
> Mostly the first part (the link) because it was the first flash game that I was actually in the fandom for, as well as the first BIG BIG BIG update. It has sentimental meaning! Plus Latula--what a cutie!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively titled oh god she's hot

You wander aimlessly through the bubble after running into that creepy Megido-but-not-Megido fairy chick, not particularly looking foreward to seeing many of your old friends again. They were mostly so lame, but you'd need to get the gang back together to take down the douche of time, which is somefin you'd definately want to do. Aranea says it's not possible, but doing the impossible is something you've come to find yourself pretty good at.  
The wind blows your braids back behind you as you walk along the winding sand trail towards Aranea, your fuschia shoes sinking into the soft turf. You look around, taking in the clear blue water, fine sand littered with purplish rocks and sea shells, and trees in various states of growth. It's not the worst place you could be stuck in, you muse as you near Serket.  
She asks you where you've been, then rambles on about how that Lord of Time killed a bunch of ghosts (killing ghosts--stupidest thing you've ever heard) in that cool-lookin' explosion not long ago.  
You speak to her for a while, talking to her about your plans for destroying that dweeb and your friends' conditions and all that shit.  
She won't join you, and doesn't approve of your plan, but whatever. You just roll your eyes and wave at her, bling jingling around your wrist as you turn away and continue on your way through the sand.  
Soon you come across a tall, elegant orange-clad human girl pacing around on top of a purple structure.  
The human tells you her name is Rose (not that you care) and then does some weird mind-reading voodoo, then says some wordy things you don't really understand or care about. You ask her to come help you kill that Lord English guy, and she agrees, only to say she can't come help at the moment and gives a half-assed explanation that doesn't help explain anything.  
By the end of the exchange, your head hurts and you're more confused than you've ever been before. You wobble down the stairs, unused to movement after how long you spent listening to wordy girl's words.  
You stumble across the Maryam girl after a moment, blinded by her glowy self. You're not used to trolls actually glowing--Porrim learned how to control it.  
New Maryam just cries green tears about how your Maryam scares her, uses more words you don't really understand or care about, then almost agrees before the Rose human uses that voodoo or whatever to tell her not to do it. What a buzzkill.  
You learn that Maryam and the bland-looking human girl are gillfronds, which makes a lot of sense. Wordy girl and wordy troll are totes adorbs, yo. You doubt anyone else could handle their wordy words.  
You continue on, finding yourself disappointed when the comfortable sand switches abruptly to tacky purple stone. You wander around before finding a sarcastic blond boy, Human What's His Cape, who you find out is related to that sicknasty bro Dirk, reciever of high-fives. You two let out some precious banter before you get to the magic question, which he denies in favor of doing some ebubble thing you don't understand or care about.  
You continue on, finding nubby shouty just kind of standing around with a weird expression on his face while nubby preachy gives him one of his awful lectures. You snicker and scram the hell away from them fast. You wander around a little more, grabbin' some more sick loot until a tall, r4d troll skateboards in front of you and assaults you with high-fives and some totes confusing spoken quirk shit. She pansies out of joining your little group, saying she had to talk to Mituna about it. For someone claiming to be so r4d, she's turning out to be really glubbin' LAAAAAAMEEEE.  
You continue on, running into a blocked door with Shouty's symbol on it. Hmm. You tap a fist onto it hard, not expecting it to be solid and hurting so much you draw your pinkening hand to your chest and hop around in pain.  
After that's over with, you back away from that stupid door and turn into a wide hallway leading nowhere.  
Your heart stops as you see her.  
Tall, back towards you. Clad in a revealing yet classy black dress with bright green accents. Wild black hair, just the jagged edges of her mismatched horns visible over the snarls of black. Dark tattoos curling around her gray body.  
You apparently make a strange noise deep in your throat so she turns around, and you can't take it anymore.  
Those chest lumps hanging half out of her dress. Punky gold piercings (you always did have a thing for bling) hanging off her elegantly curved features.  
"OHHH NOO!" you screech, collapsing to the ground.  
"No! No! No! This can't be happening!" you yell as you fall onto your side, sprawled half on a muted red rug and half on the cold purple stone tile.  
"Oh gog," you mutter, blank white eyes fluttering. You manage to cough out a few more words before your breath slows to a stop.  
"Oh, no.. she's hot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you didn't take this seriously  
> aND I WONDER WHY PEOPLE DON'T LIKE ME AS A WRITER
> 
> also ONE WEEK REMAINING!


	24. Day Twenty-four (Dave/Bro)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day twenty-four: Saddest death  
> Bro's death made me really, really, really upset. I couldn't help but cry like a small child. I didn't leave my bed for three days after reading it, oh my goodness.  
> I pretty much blocked it from my mind, and I spent AN HOUR AND A HALF looking for the page but I couldn't find it so I just kind of pulled this out of my ass, so don't freak when it's not exactly canon. Of course it's not going to be canon because Dave and Bro are in an established relationship in this, w00ps. Well have your sad incest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps this started out platonic woopsies

He can't be dead.  
He can't be.  
As you see him in the distance, just lying there in a pool of blue by someone who... looks just like you, your heart stops.  
You tune out whatever Aradia's saying and stop dead in your tracks, breath catching in your chest.  
She says something, probably your name, and moves closer, grabbing your arm. You barely feel it, and her voice sounds like she's speaking to you from the surface while you're underwater, sinking and fading fast.  
You try to convince yourself it's not him, but you know in the pit of your stomach that it is. You know his worn black shoes that he refused to replace, his baggy black pants he loved so much because they were comfortable as fuck, made him look good, and were perfect for impromptu strife sessions, his stupid-ass polo with the popped collar he keeps tucked into his pants to show off that stupidly ironic BRO belt buckle you got him when you were eight.  
You hear someone scream his name followed by the sound of Aradia's flapping wings as you run towards him, kicking up purplish gray dust and rocks behind your heels. You don't realize the horrific sound is coming from you.  
You reach him and push the other you away and onto the ground behind you, feeling tears begin to pool at the corners of your eyes. He makes a soft "oof!" and you crouch next to Bro, taking him in.  
"Hey, lil' man," he croaks, fighting to open his eyes. Your breath comes a little easier knowing he's alive, but the rational part of you knows that it can't stay this way for long.  
"Bro," you whimper, throwing your arms around him and cradling his bigger body half into your lap. You feel the tears start to fall down your face. "There's so much blood.."  
"Dave... why are you cryin'? C'mon, man, Striders don't cry. There's nothin' to cry over." he takes a shuddering breath, followed by a wet cough.  
You glace behind you and see the other Dave, crouching on the ground behind you with a solemn expression. He nods at you, and you look back to Bro.  
"Don't die," you whisper, staring at the sword running through him, at the blood draining from his face and spreading across his normally-crisp white shirt.  
"No, bro... it can't be helped. Game over. Last life lost. I don't even think I got to... save the princess."  
You laugh humorlessly, the sound coming out weak due to being choked out through your tears.  
"You did raise me pretty sweet, though. Even if we did get a little messed up in the end, y'know?" you whisper, face nuzzling against his. You lift his shades up along with your own and look into his eyes, mutant red meeting mutant orange.  
He's fading fast--you can see it in his eyes.  
"I love you, Dave. It sounds really fuckin' cheesy, but I love you more than I've ever loved anything. Ever.. I'm not even being ironic. I love you more than... Lil' Cal. Don't let him know that though, can't having him being.. upset." he wheezes, draping his arms around your shoulders.  
"I love you too... Dirk." his eyes widen a little when you call him by his actual name instead of Bro. You never do that--but this time you felt the need.  
You lean in and press your lips gently to his, closing your eyes. You know tears are dripping onto his face, and blood is getting on your mouth, but you can't bring yourself to care.  
You shift after a moment, not getting much farther from him but making it so your lips are no longer touching.  
He takes another shallow breath, eyes still closed and shades pushed into his soft gold-blonde hair.  
"Dave, you have to stop him.. you and your little friends, ok? I couldn't get him.. he got the best of me. Don't let him get you too."  
"I will, Bro.. We'll get him. I'll get him. For you."  
"I love you, Dave.." his eyes flutter, and his breath falters. "I love you... I love you.. I love you.. I love..."  
And just like that, he's gone.


	25. Day twenty-five (Dave/John)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 25: Your introduction to Homestuck  
> Well, a good frond of mine (tumblr user 2spookykanaya) who wasn’t quite a good frond of mine back then kept posting DaveJohn pictures and I NEEDED to read Homestuck. ((actually I saw a picture of Eridan saying “make milkshakes they said, buoys wwill come to your yard they said” first but I didn’t know how to write that so))
> 
> IN WHICH JOHN WAKES UP FROM A BAD DREAM AND DAVE COMFORTS HIM

A tall man, scarred and sheathed in black, follows you through a dark alleyway.  
Your breath speeds up and you try to speed up, your breath coming quicker and shorter. You walk briskly, trying to get out of that alley--if only you could get out of this goddamned alley you'd be safe and surrounded by people, /safe/--you turn back and look over your shoulder after every step. The man is still there. You see a glint of white as he grins sharply in the darkness. Your heart stops, and you break into a run, not looking where you're going. You can't tear your eyes away, even as you thud into a brick wall that you swear wasn't there a moment ago. You fall to the ground with a groan, vision blurring. When it clears up, the man is standing over you, grinning and brandishing a dagger.  
You start to scream, trying to back away from him but there's a wall on each side of you.  
He leans down, pressing his hand into your throat and pinning you to the wall, cutting off your air.  
You try to scream but you can't, can't call for help can't save yourself can't /breathe/ you're going to die in this alley by the yourself at the hands of this monster without even getting to say goodbye to Jade or your dad or oh my god DAVE.  
In an instant the man and the alleyway are gone and you're in Dave's dark bedroom, being shaken awake by your boyfriend himself.  
"John! John, wake up. Shh, it's ok, baby, I'm here," he whispers in your ear.  
Your eyes are wide and terrified, you're covered in a cold sweat, and your breath is irregular and shallow. Your heart is beating out of your chest--you're terrified.  
"Dave," you breath his name, relieved to be out of that dream. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him close, resting your face in the crook of his neck and letting out a choked sob.  
"It's alright.. I'm here.. It was just a dream, John, you're awake now. You're here with me," he murmurs in your ear, pulling you onto his lap.  
"I--I thought he was going to kill me.." you gasp quietly against his shoulder.  
Dave slips a hand under your chin and guides your face to his, kissing away your tears.  
"Who, John?"  
"I don't know. Some guy dressed in black, with a scar over his eye. He was chasing me through an alley, and I didn't have anywhere to escape to.." you frown, tears slowing as he kisses your face, making calming noises against your skin.  
His red eyes are heavy-lidded with sleep and keep darting up to your blue ones, which you're greatful for.  
Your heart rate slows, and the sobs stop completely.  
He brings another kiss down right onto your lips, gentle and soft. He pulls away and looks into your eyes.  
"Are you going to be ok, babe?" he murmurs softly.  
"Yeah.. it was just a nightmare, I guess. Sorry for waking you."  
He shooshes you and lies down against the pillows, pulling you with him until you're lying on top of his chest.  
You wrap your arms around him, getting comfortable in the warmth.  
He rests one hand on your upper back, rubbing circles into your bare skin just the way you like it. The other rests on your side, thumb tracing over you absently. He presses kisses into your messy hair, murmuring words into your scalp.  
You fall back to a peaceful sleep with his skin on yours, and his words just barely reaching your ears.


	26. Day Twenty Six (Cronus/Kankri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 26: Favorite Ancestor
> 
> Oh wow, I couldn’t choose between the Grand Highblood, Orphaner Dualscar, or the Summoner. My favorite is probably the Summoner, now that I think about it, but I really wanted to write the new trolls and Nitram isn't like there yet so I wrote Cronus thinking about Orphaner.
> 
> ALSO AT THE END THERE ARE HOT CRONKRI MAKEOUTS WOOOOOOOOooooo

The alternates don't know how lucky they are, to have Ancestors.

On Beforus, it was actually pretty lonely. Trolls tended to stay away from you, even your own friends, especially your own friends, refusing to listen to your amazing music and ignoring your advances. You really only had (and still have) your dear Kankri, always there to listen to you, even if he did rant about triggers and things a little too much. 

You feel the corners of your mouth quirk upward at the thought of Kankri, and you let your mind wander for a while before Ancestor you comes to your mind.

You plop down on the lawnring of one of the hives, elbows on your knees and resting your chin in your hands. You sigh around your cigarette and lean back a little, feeling your gelled-back hair to make sure everything feels in place. Your hand brushes against your scar and you hiss, retracting your hand like the scar burned you. Well, with the memories that rush to you upon making contact with the raised flesh however briefly, it might as well have.

You wonder if the Ancestor-version of you had a scar like that. You don't know how he could, but if he did you feel sorry for him.

You stand and take a puff of your smoke, looking down at yourself.

You wonder what he looked like.

You suddenly feel plagued by curiosity, brushing the dirt off your pants and walking behind the hive, remembering seeing a reflective plane back there.

You find it and look at yourself, studying yourself from your gelled hair to your unscuffed boots. You take in your smooth, light gray skin, flushed slightly purple. Your thick black eyebrows, always arched slightly. Your wide, deep-set eyes, plain white the whole way through, unnerving even to you. Your downturned, thin-lipped mouth, always curled tight around your ever-present smoke, gray smoke curling up diffusing through the air above your head. You see your long legs, muscled from swimming. You see your muscles, stretching behind your white tee shirt as you flex your arm.

He'd be a lot taller than you, stronger, too, maybe even double your size. Your alternate self WOULD NOT be weak-looking. What a badass.

You wonder how he'd act--probably a lot like you, just a lot more intimidating, a lot stronger.

You'd bet he'd dress differently.

Probably in the most ridiculous clothing imaginable, somehow making him look completely badass instead of how silly it'd probably look on you.

You bet he'd have a cape, like the weirdo alternate version you. Instead of just looking like an annoying little creep, though, his would be spiked at the top, like one of those culling drones. That'd be downright terrifying.

His top would probably be like armor, shaped plates overlapping over each other. There'd likely be black, accented with your blood color. Awww, yeah. He'd wear a lot of gold, maybe even as much as Meenah, and that's a lot. Gold is only fitting of a royal. Not that you consider yourself a royal--you definitely don't! Your blood doesn't make you better than shitbloods like Nitram! Oh... um... back to Ancestor you. You didn't think that. Of course he would fit your sign in there somewhere, probably right smack in the middle of his chest. One has to be proud to be an Ampora.

You wonder if he'd even actually be an Ampora--the Ancestor versions of you and your friends that you've heard of normally have strange, long titles as opposed to traditional names. He'd still be an Ampora at heart though.

You're deep in thought when you hear a small, quick-speaking, rambly voice call your name.

"Cronus? Cronus, are you there? Cronus? Cronas, talk to me! Your absence is triggering me!"

You drop your cigarette onto the ground and snuff it with your shoe. It bothers Kankri when you smoke, and it's not really worth it to bother him.

"Kankri, chill out, I'm right here.." you murmur, looking over at where he's peering around the edge of the hive. He comes back to where you're standing, stopping beside you and looking in the reflective plane. He's a lot shorter than you, and you drape your arm over his shoulder and pull him into your side.

Kankri's face flushes red and his eyes dart around, making sure the area was free of any trolls that ran the risk of being triggered by there closeness. He does the same thing every time you touch him, even if it's only to brush your hand against his leg when your group sits together anywhere.

You study the pair of you reflected before you, his small, slightly chubby body, drowned in his knitted red sweater, next to your close-clothed, lean, muscly form. You don't look bad together-- the red of his blood and the violet of yours compliment each other in a way you never expected.

"What are you looking at?" Kankri asks, "Are you triggered by our corresponding colors? I could move if this is a problem for you--I never took it into thought that our matesprit may trigger you. I'm sorry, maybe we should break it off--"

You silence him by snaking your head down and pressing a kiss right on his half-open mouth, eyes half open. You watch, amused, as his expression changes from the expression he gets when speaking about triggers or history (eyes lidded, mouth slightly open, eyebrows raised) to one of happiness (eyes falling shut, forehead relaxing, mouth molding to yours) under your lips.

One of your long-fingered hands darts to the shaggy hair at the back of his head, cradling him towards you. Your thumb sneaks under the collar of his sweatshirt, rubbing circles in the back of his neck. He keens and presses back against your finger.

Your other hand slides down his back, stopping at the curve of his lower back. Your long tongue traces his black lips and he pushes himself up into you, making small hums and keens of pleasure. The guy's always really vocal--you love it. Noises are great.

The surprised little half-moan he makes when you let go of his head and drop both hands down to his ass, giving it a firm squeeze, almost makes you make a little noise at the feeling it gives you before he's blushing all over, pushing you away.

He starts mumbling something about how that's inappropriate and rants about how butt-touching is a huge trigger for some people, but you tune it out, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer even though his half-hearted yet long winded protests.

As you stand there, face resting in your matesprit's hair snugly between his horns, you don't feel alone. You're not plagued by thoughts of your Ancestor self, thoughts of what it'd be like if you had one. It's just you and Kankri, and even if he's all you have, you're ok with that.


	27. Day Twenty Seven (Eridan/Karkat)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 27: Favorite set of horns
> 
> I really like Eridan’s. They’re just really cool looking and I feel like they match his personality.
> 
> I took this prompt as a reason for me to write hornplay for once in my life.
> 
> Also this is not quite porn because I can't bring myself to write it outside of RP's
> 
> Also also this is based on my headcanon that the higher the blood, the smoother and shinier the horns. Trolls with lower blood will have horns with ridges on them and duller colors, while highbloods will have really shiny, smooth horns with bright colors.

You love Eridan's horns. They're so smooth and shiny, the wave to them similar to his sign he's so proud of and just perfect and so /Eridan./ They're pointy and sharp and pretty much the opposite of your coarse, ruddy nubs. They're pretty much your favorite thing about your pompous bastard of a matesprit.

Which is why, as you pin him against the wall where you two are alone in his respiteblock, your hands run through his painstakingly-styled hair and rest at the base of his horns, scritch-scratching at the base. He lets out a low moan, bending his knees so you can reach his tall, lanky frame more easily. 

Your hands rub along the slightly-tilted bases, thumbs pressing circles into the sensitive skin. Eridan straight-up keens at you, relaxing into your rubbing. His face contorts in a look of pleasure, eyes closing and mouth hanging open.

You scoff under your breath and move your hands up the smooth, hard expanse of his horn, rubbing the curve of them.

"Nnnnnnggh, Karkat," he groans with that silly washed-out accent, hands running over your back. 

You keep that up for a few minutes, rubbing them with an urgency that may have been embarrassing if Eridan wasn't making those sexy little noises that went straight to your bulge, making it writhe and stain your gray pants red.

You let go of him and he lets out another long noise, barely putting up a struggle as you pull him down to the ground, spreading out overtop of him. You press your black lips to his, gray tongue tracing them roughly. You pull away just as he goes to kiss back, moving your mouth to his horns.

The noise he makes when you drag your hot, wet tongue the whole way over the curving length of his left horn isn't something you'll forget for a long while.

You tongue it hard, rubbing circles into the base again with your thumbs. He seemed to like that before.

He lets out another long moan, pulling down the neck of your shirt and pressing his lips to the hollow under your throat, tongue pressing into a bright red-flushed pressure point you were foolish enough to let him find earlier.

You suck on one particular spot on his horn, rubbing your hand around the other one. He gasps against your throat and sinks his fangs into that sensitive spot, and you're the one moaning, sound making vibrations against his horn. He slides a hand under your shirt, rubbing the sensitive slits in your sides where your grub legs grew into your flesh.

You're rutting against him and sucking on his horn, relishing in his oddly glub-like moans when the transportalizer to his respiteblock hums twice, signalling an entrance, then another.

"Hey, Eridan, did you---" Feferi's clear voice rings, stopping abruptly when she sees you, sucking and rubbing Eridan's horns from on top of him with him on the bottom, biting and licking at your flushed gray skin, hands under your shirt.

"Uh, Fef..." Eridan glubs awkwardly, facial fins flaring and flushing bright violet.

"What the hell are you looking at?" you growl, blushing.

Nepeta giggles from behind Feferi.

"No reason to get defensive, Karkitty! This just means I need to update this spot on my shipping wall to canon!" she squeals, turning and bouncing back to the transportalizer. Feferi coughs and scratches the back of her neck awkwardly before turning to follow her.

You roll off of Eridan, extremely fucking embarrassed. 

"W-well at least w-we don't hav-ve to explain it to anyone. You can bet they already told ev-veryone." Eridan says, looking over at you.

You just roll your eyes and press your lips to his.


End file.
